


Dissension

by Miko no da (Miko)



Series: Sinners & Saints [2]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko%20no%20da
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawford brings a new pet home, and Schuldig finds himself at odds with his Master.</p><p>(Posting OLD fics from my defunct website)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Schuldig sat curled up in the windowsill, the spring breeze through the screen sending wisps of his hair drifting over his face. He brushed them back absently, bright green eyes roaming up and down the street as if watching for something.

"Tsumaranai," he sighed, letting the Japanese word roll off his tongue fluidly. He was proud of the fact that all traces of his accent had vanished now - if no one was looking at him, he could pass for a native. Of course, the moment anyone got a glimpse of his flame orange hair, they would know he was a gaijin.

"Tsumaranaaaaaai," he whined again, propping his head on his fist and staring out the window. "Laaaaaangweilig," he tried in German. Then, because that was at least moderately entertaining, he said it again in English. "Boooored! I'm so bored!" He glared at the entrance to the underground parking lot of Takatori Towers, willing Crawford's sleek black BMW to show up and pull in.

He didn't know why Crawford had ordered him to stay home tonight - usually when Takatori wanted a guard to the BDSM parties, both Crawford and Schuldig went along. Schuldig raised one hand to finger the choker at his throat, scowling at the wall. This whole Master/slave deal was getting on his nerves. Not that he was ungrateful to Crawford for rescuing him, not at all! But after two years of having to obey the man's every whim, he found he was chafing at the bit. He just didn't have the kind of personality that could willingly take orders constantly. The tricks he'd learned in his former Master's harem didn't apply here; Crawford wanted him thinking for himself when they were on duty, and that meant he couldn't just bury himself in the part and get lost in his own mind. Thank God he was at least spared having to sleep with the man - Crawford had kept to his word and hadn't touched Schuldig once since they'd started living together.

At least the precognitive had been able to teach him how to keep most of the damn voices out of his head! Grimacing, he raised a hand to his temple as if to stave off the ghost of remembered pain. It had been a long, difficult process, but he'd finally mastered his Gift as much as he was able to. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it was better than it had been.

And with control came the ability to play with people's minds, to make them think what HE wanted them to think, to use their own thoughts against them. The only person he couldn't control was Crawford, because the man had a natural shield that was almost impenetrable, unless he chose to make it otherwise.

At last he caught sight of the expensive black sports car following Takatori's limo into the garage, and he bounced to his feet excitedly. The only possible reason for Crawford to have left him behind was that the precog had foreseen something occurring that night, and Schuldig wanted to know what the hell it was. He counted off the seconds in his mind, impatiently waiting for the sound of the door opening. Five minutes to see Takatori safely to his private elevator. Ten minutes to check in with the security chief, make sure nothing untoward was happening. Ten minutes to ride the public elevator up to their floor, punch in the access codes to get the door to open, and...

Right on time, the sound of Crawford's keycard in the slot reached the telepath's ears. He grinned. Crawford could be an anal son of a bitch, but at least he was predictable about his routines. It would have been a dangerous habit for anyone else, but for someone who could see any possible danger before it could strike him, routine wasn't much of a concern.

He reached out his mind, hoping to pick up some bits and pieces of the night's events, though he knew Crawford wouldn't let anything leak. He touched the curious blankness that was the edge of Crawford's shields... and was brought up short by another presence behind him. He frowned, as Crawford opened the door and his lean frame blocked the sight of whoever was behind him. Company meant he'd have to be even more bootlickingly submissive than normal - Crawford didn't demand much from him in the way of obeisance when they were in private, but in public was another matter. Sighing, he let what he called his 'mindless slave' persona slip over him and went to help Crawford with his coat.

 _*Who the hell is THAT?*_ he blurted out mentally, startled by the sight of the thin, shivering boy cowering behind Crawford. He stopped short in the hallway, forgetting all about his act, just staring.

"Schuldig, meet the newest addition to our team," Crawford responded blandly, hanging up his own coat when it was clear Schuldig had no intention of doing so. _*Be civil, he's already scared out of his mind,*_ he added mentally.

Schuldig gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me," he said aloud, unthinkingly. "THIS?"

Crawford nodded, a warning glint in his eyes telling Schuldig that he'd better smarten up and behave himself. Schuldig stepped aside to let his Master pass, automatically moving to put the man's shoes away in the closet. He scanned the boy as he did so, and was startled yet again by what he found.

If he hadn't been looking straight at the boy, he'd have thought he was touching the mind of an animal. A badly abused animal, at that. There was nothing in his surface thoughts but faint impulses, instincts really. His dark blue eyes tracked Crawford like a magnet on the North Pole, and there was something fragile in them. He stood quietly by the door, so still he could have been a statue. He was dressed primarily in Crawford's suit jacket, though Schuldig caught a glimpse of scraps of leather beneath it. At his throat he wore a collar identical in every respect to Schuldig's.

 _*What the hell makes YOU so special?*_ he tried asking the kid directly. The boy's eyes widened a fraction, and flickered to him for just a moment, but reverted to watching Crawford so quickly that Schuldig would have missed the movement if he hadn't been watching closely. There was no reaction within his mind, not even a stray thought wondering why he was hearing voices in his head.

Crawford had reached the living room, and had turned back with a frown to watch the two of them. "Come inside," he said impatiently. Instantly the boy scrambled forward, moving so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet, and skidded to a stop inches away from Crawford. His dark eyes never left the American's face, and Schuldig thought he saw his Master sigh.

"This is Schuldig," he told the boy, gesturing at the German who had come to stand in the doorway. "He is also my slave, and he is a telepath. Schuldig, this is... damn it, I never did find out what your name was." Crawford looked annoyed that he had forgotten such an important detail.

Schuldig was staring at the boy, trying to get deep enough into his mind to find his personality. The child was covered in bruises, some new, some old, and there were whip and burn scars peeking out from under the oversized jacket. He gave no verbal response to Crawford's implied question, but that wasn't surprising - he hadn't been given explicit permission to speak. He did briefly flash on a memory, however, and Schuldig was able to pick it up.

"Dorei?" he repeated aloud, incredulous. "They called you Dorei? Man, that's taking it too far!" The boy's eyes flicked to him again, lingering a fraction of a second longer this time before returning to Crawford once more.

Crawford gave him a warning glance, but his frown had deepened as well. The word meant 'slave', and it was like rubbing salt in the wound to call the child that. "Inappropriate," he agreed with Schuldig. "Do you remember your name before that?"

The boy frowned slightly, the first expression Schuldig had seen on his delicate features. He caught the sound of a murmur of thoughts, moving slowly like the kid was unused to having to think at all. He reached into the stream of thought, sifting gently through the memories, careful not to damage anything. He wasn't usually so delicate with his mental touch, but something about this forlorn child made him not want to add even a tiny bit of pain to what he had already suffered.

It took the boy a while, even with Schuldig assisting the memory process, but finally he nodded hesitantly. Crawford tapped his foot impatiently, and Schuldig rolled his eyes.

 _*You have to TELL him to say it, Crawford,*_ he informed the American tartly. _*God, and I thought I was fucked up when you found me!*_

 _*Is he damaged beyond repair?*_ Crawford asked with clinical detachment. Schuldig considered it.

_*Not sure. He may just have suppressed his personality, like I did until you started pissing me off. If so, he did a hell of a good job of it. Where did you FIND him?*_

_*Your old Master's newest playtoy,*_ Crawford replied, and there was a bite of disgust in his tone. _*Though I'm fairly certain he wasn't the first to have the boy.*_

Aloud, the American finally gave the order the boy had been waiting for. "Well, what is your name?"

"Nagi," the child replied, his voice so thin and high it was almost a whisper. There was no trace of emotion, in his voice or his mind, as he spoke the name he barely remembered. "Naoe Nagi."

"Nagi, then," Crawford nodded in satisfaction. "Nagi is a telekinetic, and a very powerful one, if a bit uncontrolled. As I said, he'll be the newest member of our team. Schuldig, I expect you to watch out for him when I'm not here."

A telekinetic? Schuldig eyed the boy with renewed respect. Added to his telepathy and Crawford's precognition, that would make them a very powerful group indeed. IF he could learn to control it - and if he couldn't, Crawford would have foreseen that and not bothered to bring him home. "Sure," he said aloud, shrugging carelessly.

"Excellent," Crawford declared. "I've informed Mr. Takatori that the... condition to my employment extends to cover the boy as well," he added, referring to the ultimatum he'd given their employer when he'd acquired Schuldig; hands off, or I leave. Takatori had never once broken that rule, though Schuldig knew he'd been tempted a time or two. "Tomorrow I will be attending a conference with Mr. Takatori - you will not be needed. You should take the time to help familiarize Nagi with how things work."

"Whatever," Schuldig replied, and smirked when Crawford frowned at him. He loved pissing the uptight American off.

Crawford finally sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "In the meantime, it's time we all got some sleep." Suiting actions to words, he turned on his heel and marched off down the hall towards his bedroom, leaving Schuldig to deal with the boy.

Schuldig sighed, and planted his hands on his hips. "Well, you heard him," he said when the boy showed no signs of moving. "You can have the room next to mine, I guess. Huh... now I finally understand why he wanted more than two rooms in the suite. He must have foreseen that we'd have more members." He was walking down the hall as he spoke, the boy trailing along at his heels like a silent shadow. "I wonder who'll get the last room?"

He stopped before the last door on the right side. "This will be yours," he said, opening the door and letting the boy peer past him. It was simply furnished, a twin bed with a down comforter, small desk and chair, and a window. There was nothing to make it look lived in, and Schuldig had an odd feeling that Nagi wouldn't be changing the decor anytime soon.

"Well, go on," he prompted when the boy merely stood in the hall. Hesitantly, the child crept past him into the room, moving like he was certain each footstep would elicit a blow from the watching German. When he had settled gingerly onto the mattress, his slight weight hardly making an impression, Schuldig sighed. "You can have a shower or bath or whatever tomorrow," he told the frightened looking boy. "For now I suggest you just sleep, like he said. Knowing him, we'll all be up at the crack of dawn." He grimaced at the idea, and watched as the boy slowly shed the suit jacket.

Nagi folded the jacket and carefully hung it over the back of the chair, then squirmed out of the leather harness that was all he was wearing. He didn't seem to mind Schuldig's eyes on him as he undressed, but then that was really no surprise. He would have been used to having people watch him strip. He held the leather uncertainly, not sure what to do with it.

"Just put it on the desk," Schuldig told him, and he obeyed. "We'll deal with it in the morning." He yawned, and moved to turn out the light and close the door as the boy slipped between the sheets of the bed. "Oyasumi. Oh, and try not to dream tonight, will ya? I hate having other people's nightmares."

With that he left the boy to his own devices, making his way back down the hall to his own room. He felt the child's mind slip almost immediately into the patterns of sleep - either he was exhausted, or he'd trained himself to sleep at any opportunity. Likely a bit of both, Schuldig concluded.

He stripped, leaving his clothes in a puddle on the floor to be dealt with later, and crawled into his own bed. Lying back, he forced each muscle to relax separately as Crawford had taught him, and set his shields so that they wouldn't fall when he went to sleep. For the first time in a long time, he found himself looking forward to the next day with interest; something told him this slip of a boy was going to become very important to him.

 

* * *

Schuldig shifted for the tenth time in the last two minutes, unable to find a comfortable spot in his chair. The book he was reading was failing to hold his interest as well, and he couldn't seem to stop fidgeting. It was driving him crazy - he was often restless when Crawford left him behind while working, but this was ridiculous!

He glanced up to see that Nagi was still sitting exactly where he had been five minutes ago - he was beginning to wonder if the kid even blinked. His mind was quiet, which ordinarily Schuldig would have found a blessing; otherwise, stuck in a confined area with the boy for long periods of time, he might start to loose track of the boundaries between their minds. But this quiet felt unnatural, unhealthy, and it gave Schuldig the creeps. Those dark blue eyes stared vaguely at the wall, not really seeing anything at all, and his expression was as blank as his mind.

It was just weird! A few of the other slaves in his first Master's harem had been what were commonly called 'pets' - submissives who had so lost the ability to think for themselves that they couldn't function at all without orders. But even the worst of them hadn't been quite this bad - they had still had a personality of sorts.

Sighing, he got up and headed for the bathroom. He'd already gone twice this last hour alone, and it was starting to annoy him. He didn't know why his body was misbehaving so badly; it wasn't even like he'd had a lot to drink that day. And despite how urgent the need to go seemed to be, his bladder acted like it was empty each time...

Abruptly he stopped, turning in the hallway to look at Nagi again. The boy hadn't moved, still staring blankly at the wall, but Schuldig was beginning to get a nasty suspicion. Probing, he let his mind slide deeper into the boy's subconscious, and almost immediately ran into a need so pressing it was actually physically painful. Wincing, he withdrew immediately, staring at the boy in amazement. Anyone else would have been doubled over in pain, but he showed no outward signs of his discomfort. Discomfort! The word hardly seemed to cover the situation.

"For fuck's sakes, if you have to go so bad, why don't you?" he blurted out, drawing the child's startled blue eyes towards him. The boy said nothing, and made no move to get up out of his seat. Now that Schuldig was aware of the source of the urgent need to piss, he could feel the pain of the cramps the boy was suffering washing against his shields. Regardless of how incredible his control was, the kid was going to wet himself if he didn't go SOON.

"You're not gonna go unless Crawford tells you to, are you?" he asked Nagi in sickening realization. God, this was even worse than he'd suspected! The pets he'd known had still been able to take care of basic bodily functions without an explicit order to do so, but he now knew with absolute certainty that unless Crawford gave the order, Nagi was going to sit there in agony for as long as he possibly could hold out, and then he would be hysterical with shame for having gone without permission.

And Crawford was in a meeting with Takatori that he couldn't get out of for hours yet. No way was the kid gonna last that long.

 _*Crawford!*_ he projected as strongly as he could, hoping the oracle would pay attention to him. _*C'mon, Crawford! Damn it, listen to me!*_

He got nothing but the vague murmur of the thoughts of the people around him - Crawford was ignoring him. _*BRAD!*_ he tried, knowing that would at least get the other psychic's attention. Crawford absolutely hated it when Schuldig called him by his first name, though the telepath had never been able to discover why.

He got the response he'd hoped for. _*Schuldig I have told you repeatedly not to interrupt me at work,*_ the precog shot back irritably. _*And you have strict orders that you are NOT to call me 'Brad' under ANY circumstances!*_

 _*YOU brought this kid home, YOU need to pay attention to him!*_ Schuldig replied bitingly. He projected the particulars of the situation in a wordless burst, and felt Crawford's dismayed astonishment. _*He's not gonna do a damn thing unless you tell him to, apparently. Christ, it's been at least twelve hours since you brought him home, and God knows how long since the last time he got to go before that. He's in fucking agony - give him a break!*_

 _*I didn't realize,*_ Crawford said, and Schuldig thought the other man sounded just a bit shaken. _*You were never that badly off...*_

 _*I was a slave, not a pet,*_ Schuldig replied bitterly. _*I still had control over my own mind. Will you just tell him he can go, for God's sake? Or better yet, tell him to obey ME as well. That way I can maybe get him to do something other than stare at the wall.*_

 _*Let me speak to him,*_ Crawford ordered, and Schuldig brought Nagi's mind into their link. The precog had no real projective ability of his own, and had to rely on Schuldig in situations like this. _*Nagi, can you hear me?*_

The boy jerked his head up, glancing around as if searching for his Master. It was the first real reaction they'd gotten out of him yet. It should have been funny, but Schuldig was far from amused.

 _*??*_ It wasn't so much a thought as a question without form, coming from the boy.

 _*He told you I was a telepath,*_ Schuldig informed him bluntly. _*I'm relaying him to you.*_

 _*Can you hear me?*_ Crawford repeated impatiently. Nagi nodded, slowly, and the ghost of a 'yes' crossed his mind. It would have to do for now. _*I should have given you this order this morning, but I was preoccupied and forgot. You will obey Schuldig just as you would obey me, unless he gives you an order that directly conflicts with something I've told you to do, understand?*_

 _*Hai...*_ came the tentative answer, his mental voice as thin and timid as his vocal one.

 _*Good,*_ Crawford said, satisfied. _*I need to get back to work. If you have any further problems, Nagi, get Schuldig to call me again.*_ He faded away from the link, putting his shields between himself and them once more. Schuldig sighed.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked the astonished boy. "Go to the bathroom, for Christ's sake!"

He'd expected Nagi to bolt, but the boy got up slowly and carefully. The effort of moving without losing that iron control showed in his face, and a subliminal humming that Schuldig had only peripherally been aware of rose in volume. It tickled the back of his mind, making him shiver and rub his arms, as Nagi moved past him to the bathroom. Seconds later Schuldig felt the rush of intense relief as Nagi finally emptied his painfully full bladder.

The humming stopped at the same moment, and Schuldig blinked. It had to be related somehow, but he wasn't certain just what the connection was. Filing it away under a mental list of odd things about the boy he needed to investigate, he waited until Nagi peeked out through the bathroom door once more.

"Did you shower this morning?" Schuldig asked him, suspecting he already knew the answer. Sure enough, Nagi shook his head minutely. "Do it now," he told him, sighing. "And anything else you need to do, okay?"

Nagi stared at him wide-eyed, and a feeling of panic washed over Schuldig's shields. He frowned back at the boy, probing to find out what was wrong. He found it quickly enough - the order he'd given was too vague, and could be interpreted in several different ways. The child was terrified to make a move, too afraid he would be punished for misinterpreting what he'd been told to do.

Schuldig gaped at him, horror and pity in his expression. "My god... you really can't function on your own at all, can you?" he blurted out, sickened. Nagi just stared back at him silently, eyes begging him to clarify the order so that he wouldn't have to make a decision himself.

Schuldig leaned against the wall of the hallway and crossed his arms to hide the way they were trembling. "Get in the shower... no, take off your clothes first," he amended hastily, seeing in the boy's mind that he had planned to step directly into the shower as ordered. "THEN get into the shower. Uh... clean yourself with the soap... can you handle that without me getting more specific?" At the boy's hesitant nod, he continued. "Shampoo your hair, and rinse off. Get out, dry off, and get dressed again. Uh... brush your hair, and your teeth." He frowned, trying to decide if he'd missed anything. "That's it, I guess. Come back out when you're done."

Nagi nodded, and turned to go deeper into the room. He left the door cracked open since Schuldig hadn't told him to shut it, and the telepath reached out and closed it for him before going back to the living room to flop into his chair.

Now it was his turn to stare blankly at the wall, as he thought over what he'd learned about his newest teammate. This was ridiculous! Powerful telekinetic or not, the kid would be no use to them if he needed a direct order for every move he made in a fight. Somehow he had to be broken of this utter dependence on his Master; it was going to be a long, painful process, Schuldig knew. He felt another surge of pity, and silently thanked whatever gods were listening that Crawford had rescued him before he had gotten that bad.

He heard the shower shut off, and reached out to gently touch the boy's mind as he followed the rest of his orders. Schuldig felt none of his usual desire to manipulate and control people when it came to this boy; Nagi had suffered through more than enough people dominating him, the last thing he needed was a telepath messing with the few thoughts he could still call his own.

Finally the boy exited the bathroom, looking dwarfed by the oversized clothes he was wearing. The only thing they'd been able to find for him to wear was a pair of Schuldig's outgrown sweatpants with the drawstring pulled tight and the legs rolled up almost to the knees, and a T-shirt so big on him the sleeves covered his arms almost to his wrists. He perched on the sofa again, nominally going back to staring at the wall but actually watching Schuldig out of the corner of his eyes.

Schuldig looked at him in return, trying to decide if the restlessness he still felt was his own or Nagi's. Mostly Nagi's, he finally decided; the boy was antsy about something. "What's bugging you?" he finally asked aloud, settling back into his seat. Nagi turned to look at him directly, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Schuldig sighed. "C'mon, talk to me, kid. Something's eating you, I can feel it."

Nagi lowered his eyes as if he were shamed. "I'm sorry," he whispered miserably, flinching as though he expected to be struck just for voicing the words.

"What on earth for?" Schuldig prompted him, astonished again.

"I... I dreamed last night," Nagi admitted in a despairing whisper, shame boiling up from his mind at having disobeyed an order. Schuldig had thought he couldn't be surprised by the way this boy thought any further, but he found he was wrong.

"I wasn't serious!" he replied, shocked. "For Christ's sake, kid, you can't help dreaming. I just meant... it was only... ah, hell!" He made a mental note to himself to watch his mouth around the boy. "Look, sometimes I say stuff I don't mean, okay? I was just teasing you. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

He looked at the boy sitting before him with head bowed, and realized he wasn't going to get him to admit that he hadn't done anything wrong. "I forgive you, okay?" he finally said wearily. "Forget about it. Anyway, Crawford hadn't even told you to obey me yet, so really you had no reason to be listening to me at all, right?"

A tiny crease wrinkled the skin between Nagi's eyes as he tried to work through that, but he couldn't spot the flaw in Schuldig's logic. Some of the shame eased, letting him glance up again. Schuldig sighed.

"You're going to need to learn to be able to do some things on your own, kid," he told the boy gruffly. "We can't dictate every move to you in a fight. Not right away!" he added hastily, seeing Nagi's distress. "But eventually. Just do your best, okay?" Nagi nodded hesitantly, but Schuldig could tell he was still terrified of the very idea.

"How long did they have you for, anyway?" he asked, curious as to how long it had taken them to break the boy so thoroughly. The kid didn't look older than about ten, so they couldn't have been abusing him for TOO long, surely...

"All my life," Nagi replied softly, scattering that theory to the winds

Schuldig gave him a hard look. "You mean, 'As long as you can remember,' don't you?"

Nagi got that frightened look in his eyes again, and bowed his head. "As long as I can remember," he agreed tonelessly. Even to a non-telepath it would have been obvious that he felt he'd been rebuked for answering incorrectly. Schuldig sighed.

"Look, you're allowed to disagree with me, okay? If I say something wrong, tell me so!" he said. Nagi just stared back at him silently. "Gott. Okay, did you really mean, 'all your life', or just 'all your life that you can remember?'"

"All my life," Nagi answered slowly, watching him as if waiting to see if this answer would earn him a blow. Schuldig just nodded, grateful that he was getting somewhere at last. Nagi brightened a bit at that sign of encouragement. "My mother was a slave," he offered shyly, the first time he'd taken any kind of initiative on his own. Technically he was still answering the original question, but Schuldig hadn't had to drag the extra information out of him piece by piece. It was a good sign - maybe he was salvageable after all.

And if it was true, small wonder the boy was so broken! He'd literally spent his entire life under someone else's total control - he hadn't just lost the ability to make his own decisions, he'd never had it in the first place. Schuldig wondered if that was going to make it harder or easier to repair him. "How old are you now, do you know?"

"Thirteen," Nagi answered. Schuldig gaped at him.

"Christ. You don't look that old. Didn't they ever feed you?"

Nagi looked thoughtful. "Most of my Masters did," he confided. His voice betrayed no emotion, as usual, but Schuldig caught a few nightmare glimpses of memory in his mind, of being starved and beaten over trifling errors. Schuldig blocked them out hastily - he had enough of his own nightmares about that sort of thing, he didn't need anyone else's bouncing around in his head. Though suddenly the year he'd spent as an unwilling slave didn't seem nearly so bad.

It suddenly occured to him to wonder if Nagi had eaten anything yet that day. As always Crawford had risen hours earlier than Schuldig - Nagi had already been dressed and out on the couch when Schuldig had dragged himself out of his room, yawning. He'd just assumed that Crawford had taken care of feeding the kid, but given what he'd seen so far today, that wasn't necessarily a safe assumption to make. "Have you eaten today?" he asked, and sure enough Nagi shook his head. "Did you eat yesterday?" Nagi shook his head again. "Christ. When was the last time you ate?"

Nagi thought about it. "Two days ago," he finally decided. "We got rice and pickles," he elaborated, and Schuldig grimaced. That was no kind of diet for a growing kid! Nagi saw the look and shrank back into the couch cushions, frightened.

"Eh? I'm not mad at you," Schuldig told him, forcing himself to gentle his usual harsh tones. He still wasn't used to the way he needed to tiptoe around this kid. "Sounds like Shigeru's gotten worse since I was in his harem. He never starved us that I can remember, unless it was a punishment."

Nagi still looked shamed. "It was a punishment," he admitted sorrowfully.

"What did you do?" Schuldig asked him, surprised. Nagi was such a perfect little slave, he couldn't imagine the boy doing anything wrong that would rate starvation rations. Shigeru had been a bastard, but he had been wise enough to realize that his slaves would last longer if he treated them relatively well.

"I broke part of his china collection," Nagi told him miserably. Schuldig grimaced; Shigeru was a collector of rare fine china dishes, and was fiercely possessive of all his pieces.

"Fuck, no wonder he was mad at you. What happened, did you drop a plate when you were carrying it or something?" Nagi shook his head, and Schuldig gave him a curious look. "Well, what happened then?"

The boy was slow to answer, looking like he really didn't want to talk about it but simply couldn't bring himself to disobey the order. "I was cleaning the glass in one of the display rooms. One of the Master's guests came in, and... he... he ordered me to service him." Schuldig was able to interpret that statement easily enough from his own experiences; the man had ordered the boy to give him a blow job or some such thing. "Master had said I wasn't to do ANYthing until he said so... he was saving me for a party later that week. I... I couldn't... I didn't..." he floundered, actually shaking with distress and shame.

"You panicked," Schuldig concluded grimly. He could guess what had happened easily enough; faced with two conflicting orders, the boy had fallen apart, unable to make a decision. Nagi was practically vibrating with misery. Without thinking, Schuldig projected a soothing feeling, trying to calm the boy before he caught the telepath up in his remembered panic. Nagi relaxed a bit, responding to the mental push, and Schuldig filed that reaction away for future reference. It might come in handy later. "Did you break the dishes fighting him off?" he asked, surprised that the child had managed to muster the strength of will to attempt to disobey the order.

"No!" Nagi protested, eyes wide. "He didn't touch me; the glass exploded, and the dishes with it."

"Exploded?" Schuldig repeated. "What do you mean, they exploded?" Nagi searched for words to describe it, but Schuldig took the short cut and plucked the memory right out of his head. "Holy fuck!" he exclaimed in shock, letting the scene play out in his mind's eye. From Nagi's point of view, he saw the man coming towards him, fly already unzipped; he felt the panic and confusion that had settled over the boy, tearing him apart with indecision; and finally he watched as the contents of the glass display case shattered, the force propelling the fragments through the glass window to bury themselves in the bodies of the room's two occupants. He winced. "Shit, that must have hurt," he muttered sympathetically. Now he knew where some of those cuts Nagi had been sporting last night originated. "How long ago was that?"

"Four days ago," Nagi answered, "counting today." Schuldig counted backwards in his head.

"Huh... that's just about the time Crawford got all uptight and secretive, and told me I wouldn't be going with him to the party last night." He frowned thoughtfully. "Do you remember what he said, about you being telekinetic? Do you know what that means?" Nagi shook his head. "It means you have the power to move things with just your mind. I think you manifested a burst of it then, because you were so frightened, and that's what shattered the plates." He snorted. "And Crawford got a vision showing him that he would encounter you, so he arranged things so he would end up as your Master. He can see the future, if he didn't tell you," he added, just in case Crawford hadn't mentioned that particular detail to the boy. "Bits and pieces of it anyway. He can't control it worth shit, but it does usually show him stuff that will be dangerous or useful to him."

Nagi gave him a wide-eyed look, but didn't comment. "Did you get those cuts treated, at least?" he asked, hoping the answer was yes. After four days, if they hadn't been treated they would almost certainly be infected, and the last thing they needed was a feverish, out-of-control telekinetic. Thankfully, Nagi nodded. "Take off your shirt and let me see," Schuldig ordered him, just in case. Nagi obeyed without comment, pulling the oversized t-shirt over his head and turning his body so that Schuldig could better see the scattered lines of cuts running down his left side.

That wasn't all Schuldig saw. The boy's soft skin was marred by scars of all descriptions, some clearly years old. Schuldig had more than his share of scars, but nothing like this. Most were on his back, but there were several on the front. They covered the length of his arms as well, and the most recent, those from the exploding china, even travelled up the side of his neck. He was lucky to be alive - Schuldig could see where at least one shard had come within a hair of nicking his jugular. "Shit," he said aloud, feeling a little faint. It was hard for his mind to encompass just how much pain the boy had truly suffered in his life. At least they all looked to have been doctored at some time or another, and those recent ones were scabbed over with no sign of infection. "I've got a salve you can borrow to put on those," he added, eyeing the damage critically. "Crawford gave it to me for mine. Keeps them from scarring quite so obviously. Can't do anything about the ones older than a year or so, though."

Nagi shrugged, his face carefully blank. Schuldig got the impression that he literally didn't care whether they scarred badly or not. Small wonder, considering all the marks he already had - a few more would hardly make a dent. Schuldig gestured for him to put the shirt back on, and he did so. "Those go all the way down your legs, too?" Schuldig hazarded a guess. Nagi nodded. "Damn. Well, no shorts or short sleeves for you, I guess. Those kind of marks draw attention, and bodyguards are supposed to be unobtrusive."

He caught the flicker of curiosity in the boy's mind, and grinned at him. "Didn't Crawford tell you anything?" he wondered aloud. "Officially, we're Takatori's bodyguards. He doesn't know we're psychic, though, so don't use your powers in front of him." He eyed the delicate-looking boy consideringly. "Dunno how he's gonna take to a little shrimp like you being his bodyguard, though. We need to get some meat on those bones of yours. Shit! I forgot!" He smacked his head in exasperation. He'd gotten so sidetracked he'd actually forgotten where he'd originally been going with this conversation. "Let's get you something to eat, okay?"

He stood and headed for the tiny kitchenette that was part of their suite, gesturing for Nagi to follow him. The boy padded along behind him obediently, like a faithful puppy. Schuldig rummaged through the fridge, searching for something edible and easy to make. "Neither Crawford nor I can cook worth a damn," he informed the watching boy sourly. "We order out most of the time, and scrounge for the rest. Uh... we both tend to stick to Western food, sorry." He grimaced. "Raw fish just doesn't do it for me. Here we go." He pulled out the makings for sandwiches, and started laying out the ingredients on the bread. "I'm gonna take a wild guess here, and say that you don't have any preferences?" he commented, glancing at Nagi. The boy shook his head slightly, wide-eyed as Schuldig continued to pile food on the bread. "Here," the German finally said, handing him one of the sandwiches. He indicated that Nagi should take a seat at the table while he hunted through the cupboards for two clean glasses.

He filled the glasses with milk and deposited them on the table, and sat down and bit into his own sandwich. He was two bites in when he realized Nagi hadn't touched his food; he swallowed and asked, "What's wrong?"

Nagi just looked at him, as if waiting for something. It took him a moment, but Schuldig finally caught on. "Oh. Go ahead, you can eat." Immediately Nagi raised the sandwich to his lips, taking a small bite and chewing it slowly, as if savouring it. Well, he probably was, Schuldig figured - that, and he probably wasn't used to having so much food in one sitting. Schuldig went back to his own lunch, glancing across the table occasionally to see Nagi watching him intently. Waiting for the next order, probably.

"We're gonna need to get another chair," Schuldig mused when he was finished, leaning back and stretching his long legs out before him. Nagi was only half finished his sandwich, and looked like it was an effort to take each bite. "Don't force yourself to eat it if you're full," Schuldig told him, knowing that the boy wouldn't be able to eat much in one sitting until his shrunken stomach adjusted. Nagi paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth, looking back at him uncertainly. Schuldig realized that his comment implied that Nagi had to make a decision, and sighed. "Look, do you want any more of it?" Nagi looked at him blankly, the concept of 'want' apparently beyond him. Schuldig rolled his eyes. "Are you still hungry?" he tried instead. Hesitantly Nagi shook his head. "Then don't eat any more of it."

Instantly he dropped the sandwich back to the plate, folding his hands in his lap and awaiting further orders. Schuldig glanced at the still-full glass of milk in front of the boy, and sighed again. "Take a drink until you're not thirsty anymore," he ordered, and Nagi raised the glass to his lips. He swallowed half the contents, lowered it a little, then took another gulp before setting it down. He looked up at Schuldig as if for approval, and Schuldig projected reassurance at him. He brightened again, sitting up a little straighter and smiling just a bit.

Schuldig glanced at the clock. "We've still got a couple of hours until Crawford gets back. Uh... there's not a hell of a lot to do around here, honestly. Can you read?" Nagi nodded. "Kanji and everything?" Schuldig clarified, surprised. Where had the kid learned to read? "How many kanji do you know?"

"Four thousand," Nagi replied, and Schuldig gaped at him again. There were three thousand kanji in the Japanese written language, plus another thousand that were only used in names. You needed eight hundred or so to decipher a newspaper, which was about the point Schuldig was at. Very, very few people knew them all.

"Jesus Christ," he swore, amazed. "Who taught you?"

"One of my Masters," Nagi answered. He hesitated, watching Schuldig's eyes like he was searching for a particular reaction, then shyly added, "She said she liked my voice, so she started to teach me so I could read out loud to her. Then she started challenging her guests to come up with a kanji I didn't know."

Schuldig blinked, wondering what had caused the kid to suddenly open up with the extra information. Possibly he was finally getting the idea that Schuldig WANTED him to talk, to elaborate on ideas and explain. Well, he certainly wasn't about to discourage him! He projected approval, and Nagi brightened again, looking pathetically happy that he'd pleased Schuldig. "How long did it take you to learn them?" he asked, curious. Nagi thought about it.

"Six weeks," he finally said. "I learned about a hundred a day."

Schuldig just looked at him for a moment, considering. The boy seemed to have no idea what an amazing feat that was. "You know that's incredible, don't you?" he finally tried prompting him. Nagi looked confused. "To learn that many kanji, that quickly." The boy blushed a little and ducked his head, and Schuldig sensed that he would have been shaking it in denial if that hadn't meant contradicting Schuldig. "Oh yes it is!" Schuldig pressed, hoping that giving the kid a sense of accomplishment would give him a little self-esteem, which in turn might give him a bit of personality. "I've been here three years, and I only know about a thousand." Nagi stared at him with wide eyes, confused.

"Can you read English?" he asked, and Nagi shook his head. "Well, that won't be hard for you to learn, there's only twenty-six letters... oh, wait. Can you speak English at all?" Again Nagi shook his head. "Eh. Well, if you can learn kanji that quick, you should be able to learn another language relatively fast as well. Crawford and I speak in English a lot, when no one else is around." He glanced around. "Damn. All the books we have are in English and German... I don't suppose you speak German?" He chuckled when Nagi shook his head, unsurprised. "Didn't think so. That leaves TV, I guess. Ever watched television before?"

"I've been there while some of my Masters watched it," Nagi replied hesitantly. "But they didn't say I should watch it with them."

Schuldig just shook his head, feeling beyond surprise now at how literally the boy took his orders. "Go curl up on the couch - sit so that you feel comfortable. Can you manage that, or is that too vague?" Nagi nodded, and rose from his place at the table to pad out to the living room again. Schuldig cleared away the plates and glasses, dumping them in the sink with the rest of the dishes, and went out to join him.

He found Nagi sitting in one corner of the couch, leaning on the armrest with his feet tucked up beside him. It was one of Schuldig's own personal favourite positions, so he knew the boy was comfortable at least. He slung himself down on the other side of the couch, mirroring the pose. "If you get uncomfortable, you can shift your position," he told Nagi. Snagging the remote from the table beside the couch, he turned the TV on and hit 'play'. There was an English action movie in the VCR that he had been watching the night before - might as well start the boy on English now, and the best way to learn it was to hear it spoken. "This is in English," he told Nagi, who was looking at him rather than the screen. "You watch it, and you'll probably be able to pick up a word or two."

Nagi turned his eyes to the screen, watching the trailers intently. Schuldig settled down into his own seat, sighing. He didn't know what it was about this fragile-seeming kid that got to him so badly, but he found himself wanting to protect the boy from any more of the suffering that had been his entire life until this moment. _Hang tight, kid,_ he thought to himself, carefully not projecting it. _If I have anything to say about it, you won't ever have to do that shit again._


	2. Chapter 2

_He trotted along behind his mother, carrying an awkward armful of silks. The bundle was really too large for his small, spindly arms, but he wanted so badly to please his Master by being useful. Kaa-san said that pleasing the Master was everything important in life, and meant special treatment - good food, better bedding, an easier life all around. He was old enough now to realize that the Master had been displeased with kaa-san when she had given birth to him - the old ladies gossiped about it when the Master wasn't around. He didn't know why the Master disliked him being born, but he figured if he worked hard enough then the Master would be pleased with him, and then be pleased with his mother for having him._

_A trailing hem from the clothes he was carrying tangled around his ankle and tripped him, and the precious bundle scattered all over the floor. He sat on his hands and knees, palms stinging from the impact with the hard stone floor, tears welling up in his eyes. His mother turned around, horror and fear in her eyes, and one of the guards the Master hired to keep watch on his slaves when he wasn't present raised a discipline stick over his head._

_He took the flogging without crying out, biting his lip to keep the noise inside. They beat you more if you cried out, because you weren't supposed to talk without permission. The harsh blows fell on his already sore back - he still wasn't very good at being useful, and tripped or dropped things a lot. He would have to work much harder if he was going to succeed in this._

_Finally the beating stopped, and he hastily scrambled to gather up the clothes he'd dropped. His lower lip trembled with the burning pain in his back, and tears spilled out of his eyes, but he stayed silent like a good boy, and saw kaa-san give him a tiny approving nod for his efforts. Hastily wiping his eyes and nose on the ragged cotton of his sleeve so he wouldn't ruin the silk, he stood with his bundle once again._

_"Stop, boy," came an authoritative voice, and he froze immediately. He knew that voice, though it had never been directed at him before - that was the Master, and anything he said was to be obeyed immediately and completely. He waited, one foot still raised in the air, hoping he would be able to keep his balance and not fall again. Bad enough for the guards to see him drop things - worse, much worse, for the Master to see it._

_"Remarkable," the man at the Master's side said as they walked forward along the line of slaves. "He was born to one of your slaves? One of your own bastards?"_

_"No, his mother had been a gift to another guest while he was here," the Master replied absently. "Damn near ruined her for concubine work, and somehow she managed to hide it long enough that it wasn't worth aborting him."_

_"He's quite well trained," the second man commented, eyeing the way he was trembling with the effort of not moving at all._

_"Don't pay much attention to him, to tell the truth," the Master admitted. "He just gets in the way, mostly. Old enough to be useful carrying things now, at least."_

_He brightened at the offhand praise, though he struggled to keep it from his expression. The Master's companion laughed heartily. "My friend, you have no concept of a thing's worth unless it's already in its finished state and ready to please you," he chuckled. "You need to learn to appreciate the potential in things. Take this boy, for example - why, you've had him from birth, no one else has ever influenced him, taught him bad habits or to think for himself. Just look how his only thought is to please you. You have the makings of the finest slave in Japan before you, and you ignore him!"_

_"I have neither the time nor the patience to wait for him to grow up, and I'm not fond of males slaves at any rate, as you well know," the Master replied sourly. "He is only a nuisance to me."_

_"Sou? Then would you consider selling him? Say, for an eighth the price of a trained male? I find myself interested in the challenge."_

_"An eighth? Surely you must be joking. Not that I would expect you to pay full price, of course - but two thirds would be more reasonable."_

_His limbs were shaking now, threatening to make him drop the bundle, but he forced himself to remain still with an effort of will. He could see in his kaa-san's eyes that something was happening, something that might be bad, and figured that getting in trouble now would not be a good thing. "A quarter," the other man countered. "After all, I'll have the expense of training him and housing him until he's useful."_

_"Half," the Master replied. "I've had the expense of feeding him for four years, and the medical expenses for his mother as well."_

_The other man waved as if to say this was negligible. "From the look of him, I'd say you haven't been feeding him much," he said acerbically. "He's thin as a reed, at an age where he should still have plenty of baby fat. One third."_

_"Hardly worth feeding such a useless creature," the Master grumbled in return, but he reached out to shake the other man's hand. "One third, then. At least I'll get something for him."_

_"Excellent. Come along, boy - give that to one of the others, and follow me." The other man gestured at him, and he glanced at the Master uncertainly. The Master's dark eyes told him nothing, so he looked at his kaa-san for instruction._

_Her sweet blue eyes were full of fear and grief, but she nodded slightly. So he put his foot down and handed the bundle to the slave who was waiting to take it, and started to walk over to where the man was._

_Abruptly his mother cried out and dropped her own burden, falling to her knees to hug him tightly. Immediately the guards moved in, but she bent her head to his and whispered frantically before they could take him from her._

_"He is your Master now, you must do everything he says! You're a smart boy, so much brighter than me, I know that you can please him and earn a good life for yourself." The guards had her now, and pried her arms from around him as he stood, frightened and uncertain. "Be a good boy! Remember!" she called to him as they dragged her away, the Master furious in the background. He saw the tears in her eyes, and knew that he would never see her again._

_Blank-faced, he turned to the man kaa-san said was his Master now. He trotted over to stand just behind and to the left of the man, as he'd seen other slaves do with his old Master, and the man nodded approvingly. "Good boy," he said, patting him on the shoulder. He brightened, happy that he'd pleased his Master already. "Come along," he was instructed, and he followed the man obediently._

_They went along the halls, into places he had never been before, until they came to a small circular room where the man seated himself in a chair beside the old Master. Standing beside the chair, he could see the guards tying his mother to a post in the centre of the room. Other slaves were herded in, and he understood - this was one of the public Disciplines kaa-san had told him about._

_Frightened, he watched as four guards took up posts around his mother. At a signal from their Master, they raised their whips and began to beat her, one after another in quick succession. He trembled, eyes wide as the sharp metal bits on the ends of the whips tore her skin apart, until her control eroded and she began to scream. His new Master glanced over at him, and smiled slyly. "You'll be a good boy, won't you?" he murmured, reaching out to caress his baby-soft cheek with a rough hand. "You wouldn't want to follow in your mother's footsteps, would you?"_

_He shook his head a tiny bit, shaking and watching with wide eyes, unable to look away but not making a sound as they flayed his mother to pieces while she screamed and screamed and screamed..._

Schuldig woke with a gasp, clenching the sweat-soaked sheets entangled around him as his body shook with remembered terror. Remembered? No, that wasn't his memory. Not that he knew what his childhood had been like, but the man had been speaking Japanese and he was fairly certain he had been raised in Europe. It could, of course, have been one of those odd twists that dreams often take, but he didn't think so.

Another wave of fear nearly swamped him, confirming his suspicion that the dream had come from an outside source. He gritted his teeth and rode it out, scrambling to strengthen his shields against the mental intrusion. When it finally abated a bit, he untangled himself from the sheets and swung his legs over the side, groping blindly for the jeans he'd discarded the night before. There was only one possible source for the emotions battering themselves against his shields, and he wouldn't be able to sleep again until he calmed the boy.

Cursing, he stumbled to his door and wrenched it open, still shivering a bit in reaction. He padded down the short distance to the boy's door, and opened it without even bothering to knock. He doubted the boy would hear it, trapped as he was in a nightmare.

Sure enough, the kid was writhing about in his bed, tangled in the sheets just as Schuldig had been. His pale, thin face was etched with grief and terror, his lips clamped shut over the scream he would not allow himself to voice. Schuldig settled himself on the edge of the bed, wondering how best to go about waking him. He didn't dare touch the boy skin-to-skin - he'd be dragged back into the nightmare. Finally he settled on projecting as much calm and soothing emotion as he could muster in his own shaky state, reaching out to shake a sheet-covered shoulder. "Nagi, wake up! It's just a bad dream. Hey, wake up!"

The boy bolted upright, eyes wide and panting, and Schuldig tumbled off the side of the bed as if he'd been pushed sharply in the chest. His ribs ached with the impact, and he lay gasping on the floor for a moment, trying to get his breath back. Nagi's hands hadn't moved from where they were clenched in the sheets - this must be a sample of his telekinetic power. He sat up gingerly, making sure not to startle the boy again.

"Chill," he told the shivering child. "It was just a bad dream. Memory. You're not there anymore." Nagi stared back at him with huge wounded eyes, trembling badly. Schuldig tried projecting the soothing thoughts again, and saw him relax marginally. "Crawford and I would never do that to you," he told the kid softly but sincerely. He emphasized the message with his mind, glad that it was him and not Crawford who'd found Nagi this way. The American hadn't an ounce of empathy in his soul, and would have just left the child shivering if he'd bothered to wake him at all. "We wouldn't, and we'll never let anyone else do it, either. I promise."

Nagi was calming down a bit, but his disbelief was clear in his mind. Schuldig saw that the child believed him - he would take anything his Master said as Gospel Truth, and he was coming to regard Schuldig to be at least as much his Master as Crawford was - but that he knew his next Master would be just as bad as all the others. "And we're not gonna let anyone else have you, either," Schuldig added to his earlier statement. "You're not just Crawford's slave, Nagi, you're part of our team. You're too powerful to be wasted on the sort of shit those guys put you through - and if you don't learn to control your powers, you're gonna end up killing yourself or somebody else."

He lifted himself back onto the bed again, glad to have caught his breath at last. He reached out and brushed the sweat-soaked bangs away from the boy's eyes, still projecting reassurance for all he was worth. "Never again," he swore, locking eyes with the child. "I promise, you'll never have to go back to that. Perform a little at the parties, yeah, sure, but you will NEVER be hurt like that again."

Nagi's trembling increased, his lower lip wobbling as well, and Schuldig frowned, wondering what he could possibly have said to upset him further. He reached into the boy's mind, and caught a chaotic swirl of disbelief and fear, and an aching hope that was almost too small to be noticed. He reached out to that little spark of light, feeding it with his own belief, and abruptly found himself with an armful of sobbing adolescent.

Before Nagi could realize that he'd done something without orders and pull away, Schuldig wrapped him up tight in his arms and tugged him closer against his chest. Nagi was sitting sprawled across his lap now, arms twined around the German's neck as he cried into his bare shoulder, body wracked with the force of his sobs. Schuldig just held him and murmured encouragement in his mind, praising the boy for acting on his own and hopefully planting the seeds that would lead to the child becoming able to function without orders.

As the torrent of tears finally began to lessen, he eased himself back against the headboard, stretching his legs out down the length of the bed and keeping Nagi cuddled tight against his side. He kept up the flood of positive emotions until the boy finally slipped back into sleep, one small hand locked around Schuldig's wrist like a drowning man hanging on to a lifeline. Schuldig sighed with relief as the overwhelming flood of terror and pain finally eased off, allowing him to breathe freely again.

He kept his shields up, knowing from personal experience that it was unlikely for the boy to go the rest of the night without another nightmare. He made no effort to extricate himself, though, since he knew he'd have to wake the boy to do it. Besides, this way he'd be there to soothe him through the next nightmare, and any that followed. If he could get it rooted in the child's mind early on that he was safe here, perhaps he would feel more willing to do things that might previously have earned punishments.

As he waited for his own body to relax enough to let him sleep again, he thought back over the day's events. Crawford had returned home precisely on time, just as the movie had finished. Oddly, he had ignored the boy all night, curtly telling Schuldig to handle it and leaving it to the telepath to make sure Nagi got fed and taken care of. Schuldig had known that Crawford wasn't the most caring of people, but he would have expected the precog to take better care of the prize he'd brought home, if he thought the boy was going to be so important to him. Well, perhaps he'd foreseen that his own clumsy efforts at comfort would do more damage than good, and left it to Schuldig to deal with.

He yawned, feeling his ribs protest the movement. That had been one hell of a push the kid had given him - if that was a sample of his powers, small wonder Crawford thought he would be useful! When he learned control and the ability to fight without orders, he would be a formidable opponent indeed. Now, if they could just get him to think for himself a little...

Schuldig fell asleep while still wrestling with the problem, Nagi a warm, almost comforting, lump at his side.

 

* * *

 _Warm. Safe._ Schuldig swam to the surface of the darkness, pulling his conscious mind out of sleep with great reluctance. _Surprise. Confusion._ He frowned slightly, trying to figure out if the emotions were his own or coming from outside his mind. _Resignation._ Outside, he decided finally. He wondered who was projecting so strongly that he was picking it up - his empathic ability was considerably weaker than his telepathy, and almost never kicked in on its own unless he was in physical contact with someone. There were no thoughts in the sensations floating through his mind, only reactions.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh morning sun that had awakened him, to see Nagi staring back at him silently. He jumped, surprised, before the memory of the night before returned. The boy had been having a nightmare, and Schuldig had picked it up. He'd come in here to calm him, and ended up holding him all night long. No wonder he'd been picking up the boy's emotions - they were both naked or nearly so and curled tightly around each other.

Nagi was watching him intently, waiting for an order, Schuldig supposed. Knowing the kid's background, it wasn't hard to figure out what kind of order he was expecting - in his experience, waking up to find someone in bed with him could surely only mean one thing.

"You were having bad dreams last night," Schuldig told him, voice even raspier than normal from sleep. Nagi's eyes widened slightly, and he looked guilty. "No, don't look at me like that. It's not your fault, and I didn't tell you not to dream last night," Schuldig said in irritation. Nagi glanced down, upset that he had displeased Schuldig. The German sighed and raked his free hand - the one that wasn't under Nagi's slim torso and curled around his shoulders - through his long hair. "I'm not displeased with you, baka. I came in here to help calm you down, and I stayed so you wouldn't have any more. I DON'T expect you to 'service' me, or anything like that. Christ, you're just a kid."

Nagi looked back at him uncertainly, and Schuldig could feel the confusion in his mind. "I told you, neither Crawford nor I are going to expect you to do that kind of thing," Schuldig told him gently. "We won't punish you for no reason, or even for little stuff. Hell, we won't punish you at all except for show at the parties, and that won't even hurt. We don't expect you to have sex with us, of any description. Crawford hates being a Dom - he only became one to rescue me the same way he rescued you."

Nagi swallowed hard, his lower lip trembling slightly. Not from tears, Schuldig sensed, but rather from the shock of the very idea. No punishments? No sex? Not ever?

"Not ever," he reassured the shell-shocked boy. He hugged him briefly, hand rubbing his shoulder, careful to avoid the cuts and bruises there. "I swear you won't ever have to go back to that kind of shit. Over my dead body, you hear me?"

Nagi nodded hesitantly, his eyes still wide and full of doubt. Schuldig knew it was going to be a long battle to get him to believe that he was safe. "C'mon," he finally sighed, sitting up in the bed. "I'm not gonna be able to get back to sleep, and Crawford's up already. Time for breakfast."

Nagi sat up as well, reaching for the same sweatpants and t-shirt he'd been wearing the day before. In the bright dawn light Schuldig got a clear look at the multitude of scars tracing over his entire body, and shuddered. There but for the grace of Crawford go I, he thought to himself, fingering one of his own nastier scars. The least of the boy's injuries seemed more damaging than the worst of his own, and he felt vaguely guilty for all the times he'd been self-pitying.

"Remember the routine I gave you for the bathroom?" Schuldig asked him, and Nagi nodded. "Go do it all again. In fact, unless one of us tells you otherwise, do that as soon as you get up every morning. Including pissing or shitting if you have to. Then come out to the kitchen. Can you do that? Follow a standing order like that, I mean?"

Nagi nodded again, and made his way out of the room towards the bathroom. Schuldig stood and stretched, and sauntered out into the hall after him, making his way back to his own room for some fresh clothes.

Once he'd dressed and given his hair a cursory brushing, he wandered out to the kitchen. Crawford was alone there, sipping his morning coffee and reading the newspaper, as was his habit. Nagi was nowhere to be seen, but the shower hadn't been on when Schuldig came out of his room, so presumably he would be joining them shortly.

The American raised an eyebrow at him. "You're up early," he commented blandly. Schuldig shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down at the table, yawning.

"Kid woke me up with a nightmare last night," he said, sipping at the too-hot beverage, hoping it would wake him up a little. "I ended up staying in his room - the drapes weren't drawn, so the sun woke us both up. He's getting cleaned up, he should be here soon."

Crawford nodded, looking pleased. "Good. I'm glad to see he's learning to take care of himself." Schuldig rolled his eyes and would have commented, but at that moment the topic of conversation appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Sit down," Schuldig told him after a long moment when Crawford said nothing. Nagi came inside the room and sat at the chair they'd scrounged up for him at dinner the night before, folding his hands in his lap and keeping his eyes on the tabletop like it contained the secrets of the universe.

 _*You've got to tell him to make food and eat, Crawford,*_ Schuldig projected in irritation when Crawford continued to sit there ignoring the boy. The precognitive shrugged negligently.

 _*You're handling him well, you take care of it,*_ he replied dismissively. Schuldig frowned at him, but followed the order.

"Nagi, can you handle making your own cereal?" he asked, gesturing at the cupboards. Nagi nodded after a moment of thought. "Good. Do it, and then eat it. Bowls in that cupboard, cereal in this one, milk is in the fridge and spoons in that drawer. Got it?" Nagi nodded again, and set to work making his breakfast. He hesitated when he discovered that there was more than one kind of cereal, and looked back at Schuldig and Crawford for instructions. Schuldig stayed silent, wanting to see what the boy would do, but encouraged him with his eyes. Slowly Nagi reached out and picked up the first box, waiting to see if the choice would earn him a blow. Instead Schuldig projected pleasure and reassurance at him, and he brightened, going about the rest of the task with alacrity.

 _Maybe this won't be so bad after all,_ Schuldig thought as he watched Nagi settle in and start eating. They could set up most of his daily routine as just standing orders, and handle exceptions as they came up. And Nagi seemed to be slowly learning that making small decisions earned him rewards, not punishment - eventually he would probably start making larger and larger decisions. Hopefully. "Eat as much as you can, but when it starts getting hard to make yourself swallow, stop," Schuldig told him. "Just like yesterday." Nagi nodded, not pausing in scooping the sugary bits of cereal into his mouth.

The bowl was only about half empty when Nagi raised the spoon, hesitated, then put it back down again and looked at Schuldig for approval. "Good!" he praised the boy aloud, making his eyes light up. "See, that wasn't so hard. Do that whenever you eat, okay? And if eventually you find that you're not full by the time all the food is gone, tell me. I'd rather you have more food than you can eat than not enough."

Nagi smiled hesitantly, the shy expression transforming his delicate features into something beautiful. Schuldig glanced at Crawford, and found the other man apparently absorbed in his newspaper. Whatever he was really thinking, it was well hidden behind that damnable shield of his.

"I want the credit card today," he announced suddenly, watching carefully for Crawford's reaction. The precog looked up and adjusted his glasses, scowling.

"No," he said curtly, rattling the newspaper as if to emphasize his answer. "You're not permitted to use it outside of my presence, remember?"

Schuldig winced - when he'd first come to be Crawford's slave, the man had given him his gold credit card and told him to get 'whatever he needed'. He'd maxed the card out in less than a day, and needless to say Crawford had not been pleased with him.

Stubbornly, he stuck to his guns. "That was two years ago, Crawford!" he protested the restriction. "Nagi needs something to wear besides my sweats, and a toothbrush and stuff like that. And something to keep him occupied during the day. For Christ's sake, the only thing he owns is that damn harness he was wearing when you brought him home, and I doubt he even thinks he owns that!"

Crawford frowned thoughtfully, and his eyes got that unfocussed look that meant he was looking into the possibilities of the future. "Very well," he finally sighed, and Schuldig restrained himself from crowing in triumph. Rubbing the victory in the American's face might annoy him enough to revoke the newly won privilege. "I don't want you spending more than two thousand dollars today, understand?"

Schuldig waved his concerns off. "I've learned a little restraint since then, for crying out loud. And what the hell would I spend that much money on for him?" He stood, clearing away the plates and mugs and dumping them in the sink. He eyed the pile of dishes already there, and sighed. Crawford refused to allow Takatori's servants into their apartment to clean up, and Schuldig agreed with him on principle - too many variables introduced to the situation for Crawford to keep track of anything that might be risky to them, and he didn't want strange people poking around in his stuff anyway. The downside, however, was that he inevitably got stuck doing the chores. "I'll do the dishes when we get back."

"You'd better," Crawford agreed mildly, meaning that he'd foreseen that Schuldig would later decide NOT to do them, and was warning him to stick to the original plan. He folded his newspaper carefully and set it down on the table, rising. "Takatori is about to need me," he announced, and turned to head for the front door. Schuldig waited until his mind was out of range for casual contact, and turned to Nagi.

"Okay, kiddo, let's get you some real clothes."

 

* * *

Schuldig had forgotten how much he hated malls. He really, really detested them, in fact. Hordes of people crowding around everywhere, their minds racing along the same old petty little tracks. Does this colour look good on me? Does this outfit make me look fat? Will he like it? It's too expensive... and thousands of other random bits of useless information, swarming over him constantly.

He winced and tightened his shields a little more as a group of hyperactive teenage girls brushed by them, their vapid minds matching their giggling exteriors. Nagi trailed along behind him, one step behind and to the left, eyes wide as he stared around them.

"Haven't you ever been to a mall before?" Schuldig asked him aloud, not willing to open his shields enough to pick up the boy's mental reply. Nagi shook his head, shrinking back against Schuldig's side as a frustrated woman herded her three young children past them. "Huh... maybe I should have started with one of the smaller malls," he muttered, looking around at the three story monolith around them. There were thousands of stores in this mall, but it was the closest to Takatori Towers and he hadn't wanted to spend any more time on the subway than he had to. Subways were even worse than malls - he was forced into almost constant physical contact with the people around him, and that made it harder to block them out.

"In here," he finally decided, directing the boy into a shop that carried clothes for kids about Nagi's age. Well, for kids a bit younger than Nagi's actual age, but the boy was so small that he wouldn't fit things designed for his age group. Nagi followed him obediently, but Schuldig was startled to feel one hand creep into his, as if seeking reassurance.

The physical contact allowed him to read what the boy was thinking without opening his shields, and he was amused to find that Nagi didn't even realize he'd taken Schuldig's hand. The boy was frightened by the frenetic activity around him, and had instinctively sought reassurance from the one person in the world he was coming to think of as 'safe'. Schuldig tried not to think about why that last bit sparked a bit of warmth in his chest.

A saleslady bustled towards them, frowning a bit as she took in Nagi's ragged state. "Can I help you?" she asked, now taking a closer look at Schuldig's own ripped jeans and t-shirt. Schuldig sighed, used to the reaction. This was an expensive mall, and neither of them looked like they had enough money to be worth wasting time on. These people got paid on commission, after all.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out Crawford's gold card, flashing it and seeing the yen signs light up in the woman's eyes. "My guardian just adopted this kid, here," he said, indicating Nagi. Technically Crawford was no longer Schuldig's legal guardian since the German had turned twenty, but it helped to explain why Schuldig was using his credit card. "His family was killed in a fire," he lied smoothly. "Poor little bastard doesn't have a damn thing. We need to get him some clothes."

She smiled that bright, false smile of a salesperson, and nodded happily. "Well, you've certainly come to the right place!" she chirped, leading them deeper into the store. "How old is he? Nine? Ten?"

"Thirteen," Schuldig told her, and her eyes widened in shock. Even though he'd had the same reaction just the day before, he enjoyed seeing it in someone else.

"Oh, my. He's quite small for his age, isn't he? And so quiet," she noted, as Nagi clung silently to Schuldig's side.

"He's not big on crowds," Schuldig told her, glancing around to see what the store carried. The summer styles were out, so there weren't a lot of long-sleeved and long-legged outfits, and he grimaced. Nagi wouldn't care if people saw his scars - he was used to wearing far less than shorts and a t-shirt in public - but it would raise too many questions. "Do you have anything with long sleeves? He doesn't like his arms and legs showing."

She frowned. "Not at this time of year, no," she said reluctantly, feeling the sale slipping from her grasp. "We have some jeans, of course - those are always popular. But I'm afraid the only thing you're going to find with long sleeves at this time of year will be suit jackets."

Schuldig glanced down at Nagi. The boy looked back up at him with big trusting blue eyes, and he sighed. "Jeans will work," he muttered, glancing at the display of denim along the back wall. "And we'll probably need to get him at least one suit - Crawford made ME buy one, for any formal events Takatori wants us to attend."

The lady perked up at the mention of the powerful politician's name, and Schuldig cursed the slip. "Takatori-sama? Is he your guardian?" she asked, stars - and yen - in her eyes.

"No," Schuldig replied curtly, projecting a chill aura at her to get her to back off. She shivered and took a few steps back, unconsciously rubbing her arms as if cold. "I don't think we'll need any more help."

"Of course," she murmured, looking ill at ease. "Just call if you need anything..." She practically scurried away, anxious to get away from the cloud of bad feeling around Schuldig and his charge.

"Hn." Schuldig smirked a bit, pleased with himself. He'd been practicing subtlety lately - using subconscious tricks like that cold aura to manipulate people, rather than just bludgeoning their minds with his like a sledgehammer. "All right, Nagi, let's try some of these jeans on."

Half an hour later Nagi was wearing one of the four pairs of jeans they'd purchased, carrying the other three draped over his arm. They looked good on him, fitting him well in the waist and hips and flaring out over his legs enough that his near-anorexic skinniness wasn't quite so obvious. By contrast, Schuldig's t-shirt looked even more over-sized on his slight shoulders, but they hadn't managed to find anything better.

"I suppose I can always just buy you more t-shirts that size," the German finally sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "They cover your arms well enough, but it looks pretty silly. You won't be able to wear that for work." Nagi blinked up at him, looking a little uncomfortable in the new jeans, as if he wasn't quite sure they wouldn't vanish out from under him if he blinked.

The saleslady had ventured near them again, and was hovering. Schuldig glanced at her, annoyed, and she apparently took that as an invitation to begin a dialogue. "What school will he be attending?" she asked brightly, determinedly ignoring the restlessness and unease Schuldig was projecting at her. Must be short on her quota this month, Schuldig finally decided with a snort. "We carry several of the more popular lines of school uniforms... though, I suppose he's old enough to be going to middle school, isn't he?" she concluded, face falling. "We only carry the junior uniforms."

"He's getting home schooling anyway," Schuldig told her, already dismissing the store as being out of useful options. They'd pay for the jeans, and try somewhere else...

He stopped just before they reached the cash register, blinking at a display of said school uniforms. "Most of those have long-sleeved jackets, don't they?" he asked slowly, eyeing a dark blue one thoughtfully.

The saleslady caught his line of thought immediately, and brightened again. She was starting to remind him of Nagi, with her sudden mood switches depending on whether Schuldig was pleased or not. "Why, yes!" she bubbled, scurrying over to the display case and unlocking it. "Most of these identifiably belong to one school or another, but we do carry a few lines of generic uniforms..."

She pulled out the blue tunic that Schuldig had been looking at, as well as a couple of sweaters in red and blue. Schuldig glanced down at his still-silent companion, but knew better by now than to bother asking Nagi's opinion. "That blue one's not half bad," he admitted grudgingly. "Try it on, Nagi."

When Nagi emerged from the change room wearing the blue slacks and overtunic, Schuldig was pleased by the result. The tunic's collar came up high enough to hide both the scars on his neck and the collar that marked him as Crawford's, and the sleeves came just to the backs of his wrists. Catching the boy's hand and sinking briefly into his mind, Schuldig determined that the uniform was quite comfortable, and more flexible in some ways than the jeans. On top of that, it was respectable looking - he would be able to wear it when they were doing work for Takatori.

"This line of uniforms comes in a couple of different colours," the saleslady informed them cheerfully, pulling out two more tunics to demonstrate. "The light and dark greys, and black. They also make uniforms for middle school and high school, in much the same style, so when he outgrows that it won't be any trouble to replace it."

"We'll take it, and the two grey ones as well," Schuldig decided, nodding decisively. "And a couple of white shirts to go underneath them, I guess." Nagi stood by him, looking a bit more at home in the looser and more comfortable uniform. "Can he just wear that out of here?"

"Certainly," she agreed readily, ringing up the sale and packaging the rest of their purchases. "I can have these delivered, if you don't wish to cart them along for the rest of the day."

"Sure," he nodded absently, fishing the gold card out again. "Have them delivered to Takatori Towers for Schuldig - the receptionist will know where to send them." He took the card back from her and slipped it into his pocket again, and turned to walk out of the store. Nagi trailed along, moving up beside him when Schuldig gestured for him to come forward. Schuldig reached out and caught Nagi's hand this time, and the blue eyes turned to him in surprise.

 _*This makes it easier to talk to you mentally without dropping my shields,*_ Schuldig told him, projecting reassurance. _*I can make you hear me with them up, but I can't read you unless I'm in contact or I drop my shields.*_ Nagi nodded solemnly, but his fingers squeezed Schuldig's a little tighter.

"Next order of business is shoes, I think," Schuldig said aloud, looking askance at the soft, obviously made-for-indoors slippers Nagi had come home with Crawford in. They were wearing through and the seams were threatening to split, despite the fact that he'd hardly worn them since then. Luckily there was a shoe store near the clothing boutique, and Schuldig directed Nagi inside.

They went through the little ritual of displaying the gold card to the salesman again, Schuldig mouthing the same easy lies to explain Nagi's somewhat less ragged state. Nagi's feet were small, but not unusually so, and they were able to get him two pairs of sneakers and a pair of dress shoes with no trouble.

In trying on the shoes, Schuldig discovered another lack that hadn't occurred to him - socks and other underthings. They asked directions from the shoe salesman, and trouped up one floor to a department store. Nagi looked a little frightened when they entered the area that held underthings, and it took Schuldig a moment to figure out why.

 _He thinks I'm buying slave outfits_ , Schuldig finally realized, seeing Nagi's hand unconsciously go to finger his collar as he looked around at the wide variety of underwear.

"This stuff goes UNDER your other clothes," Schuldig told him, grateful that there were no overly conscientious salespeople in the department. Losing all his clothes in a fire did NOT explain why Nagi had no concept of how to wear boxers and briefs. Given the kid's reaction to the briefs, he decided it would be safer to buy him several pairs of boxers instead, though he did grab one or two pairs of briefs as well. On their way to the cash register, he picked up a toothbrush and other assorted toiletries that the boy would need. Schuldig paid for it all, then directed Nagi back into one of the change rooms to put on a pair of boxers under the uniform pants, as well as a pair of socks he'd picked up. He got enough of each for one week; thankfully they sent their laundry OUT to be done, every week.

Now the boy looked like any other kid his age, Schuldig thought with some satisfaction as they made their way out of the department store. Any odd glances directed at them now were a result of his own flaming red hair and cat-green eyes, not Nagi's bedraggled state.

Catching sight of the food court, he realized it was coming up on lunchtime when his stomach rumbled. "You hungry?" he asked Nagi, and surprisingly the boy nodded. "Good! Let's get something to eat."

Figuring the kid could use a break from the unfamiliar Western food he'd been eating for two days, Schuldig ordered them both ramen and glanced around for a free table. The food court was crowded, so he shrugged and focussed on a teenage couple who were almost done. He implanted a sudden impression of being very full in their minds, and they simultaneously dropped their chopsticks and started gathering up their things. Keeping anyone else from stealing the table by clouding the thoughts of anyone who approached so that it seemed occupied, he sauntered over and put their tray down, gesturing Nagi into the other seat.

"Remember what I said about eating?" he asked, passing Nagi's bowl over. Nagi nodded. "Good. Eat up." The boy picked up the chopsticks that came with the meal, puzzling over them briefly before realizing how to break them apart. He started to scoop up the hot noodles, slurping the broth contentedly.

Schuldig did the same, wielding the utensils like a native. "You should have seen me trying to eat when I first woke up in Shigeru's harem," he told Nagi between mouthfuls. The child watched him with intelligent eyes, looking puzzled. "I have amnesia," Schuldig added, sensing the reason for the boy's confusion. "Don't remember anything before about three years ago. Anyway, they'd been feeding me when I was catatonic, so I'd never learned to use chopsticks. Made a right mess of myself at every meal for the first month or so." He snorted, slurping up an extra long noodle and licking his lips. He sensed faint amusement from Nagi, along with incredulity, and glanced up to catch a glimpse of the same fleeting smile that had crossed his face that morning. He smiled to himself, pleased.

Nagi managed to finish most of the small bowl of ramen, and Schuldig happily finished off his leftovers. "You know, you're allowed to talk to me," he told the boy as they dropped the trash in the bins. Although the boy's eyes were incredibly expressive, Schuldig was getting tired of having to probe to find out what he was thinking. "Unless I specifically tell you that you need to stay silent, anytime you have a question to ask, feel free. And if I'm talking to you, consider that to be explicit permission to speak, okay? Can you handle that?"

Nagi started to nod, then hesitantly replied, "Yes. I..." he trailed off uncertainly, and Schuldig prompted him.

"You...?"

"I... think so," Nagi concluded, ducking his head shyly. Schuldig projected his pleasure, and Nagi looked up again with wide eyes. "You... you're really p-pleased when I..."

"When you do things beyond the parameters I've given you?" Schuldig finished for him, seeing that he was struggling. "Yes, very. I was especially pleased when you chose your own cereal this morning. And when you gave me information I hadn't specifically asked for, yesterday." He backed his words with another strong burst of pleasure and reassurance. "You're a smart kid, and a fast learner. You can do this, Nagi."

He sensed Nagi wanted to say something, and nodded to encourage him. "You... do you really think... that I could learn to be... normal?"

Schuldig almost made a face, then reminded himself just in time that Nagi would take it as displeasure for asking the question. "I don't think any of us can really be normal," he replied seriously, stopping beside one of the mall fountains and staring at the coloured sprays of water. _*We're psychics,*_ he added, taking the conversation to telepathy so no one would overhear. _*And assassins. Or at least, Crawford and I are, and you will be too once we get you trained. Neither of those activities are something 'normal' people do. But if you mean, do I think you can learn to function on your own some day, then yes. I know it's hard, and frightening, but just take it one step at a time and I know you can do it.*_

 _*You really think so?*_ Nagi asked a little wistfully, squeezing Schuldig's hand harder.

 _*Yeah, I really do,*_ Schuldig answered him with conviction. It was pointless to deny it to himself any longer - somehow this little slip of a kid had wormed his way straight to Schuldig's supposedly impenetrable heart, and he seemed determined to stay there. I better watch it, or I'm gonna start going soft, he thought to himself with some disgust, careful to keep from projecting it. "C'mon, let's go find you something to do all day," he said aloud, breaking the moment that was threatening to turn intimate.

They stopped at the bathroom first, because Schuldig needed it and figured Nagi probably did too. He frowned - they were going to have to do something about this problem. Sooner or later he'd forget to tell Nagi to go in time - or worse yet, he'd be away and unable to do so. Takatori sometimes took long trips out of town, with Crawford and Schuldig with him. _*Listen,*_ he said as they left the bathroom. _*You know how you felt just now, before we went in there?*_ To emphasise what he meant, he projected the sensation at the boy briefly. Nagi nodded. _*Whenever it gets about that bad, start looking around for a bathroom. Unless you're occupied with something else or we've ordered you not to, go to the bathroom as soon as you find one, okay?*_ Nagi frowned for a moment, working through that order in his mind. It was probably the most vague order Schuldig had given him yet - it involved a lot of judgement on his part.

"I think I can do that," he finally said softly. Schuldig nodded, pleased.

"Good. Don't hesitate to ask permission if you REALLY have to go, too. Don't let it get as bad as it was yesterday - if you start feeling pain from holding it, ask!"

They wandered through a few bookstores, picking out a small stack of books for Nagi to read. He had no preferences, so they basically just tried one of everything. "You can tell me which of these was the most interesting when you're done them, and we'll buy more of that type, okay?" Schuldig said as they handed the books over to be delivered to Takatori towers. Nagi nodded, though he looked uncertain.

They wandered by a music store, and Schuldig stopped and got Nagi a little portable CD player and some discs to listen to - mostly the J-pop and J-rock stuff teenagers tended to listen to, but a few classical CDs here and there. Beside the music store was an electronics store, and there Schuldig got a glimmer of the reason Crawford had warned them not to spend more than a few thousand dollars.

"Video games!" he exclaimed, grinning widely. "Oh, yeah, that's perfect. Those can keep any teenager entertained for HOURS!" He dragged Nagi into the store by the wrist, moving fast enough that the boy had to trot to keep up with him.

He left Nagi watching a couple of kids play the display game, while he went hunting for the best system. There was an array of choices, from Nintendo to actual computer systems, but it looked like the best game system was the Sega Genesis. He picked up one of the boxes, and made his way back to the games section.

Nagi had drifted a bit, and was now watching a store clerk typing away at a computer with fascination. Schuldig halted a few feet away, before Nagi was aware that he was there, and looked at the absorbed expression on the boy's face. Blinking, he probed a little deeper, and got a sense of wonderment and excitement. Nagi was listening to the clerk explain to a customer that the computer could be hooked up to the Internet, allowing him to talk to anyone, anywhere in the world. What seemed to have caught the boy's full attention was the idea of leaning things online, of having entire libraries at his electronic disposal. Schuldig realized he should have known someone capable of learning four thousand kanji in six weeks would have a thirst for learning.

"You want one of those?" he asked the boy, taking the last few steps to come up beside him. Nagi looked up at him, startled.

"I..." he paused, thinking. "I don't know."

His mind said differently, even if he didn't know how to interpret the feelings he was getting, and Schuldig grinned, putting the Sega system down on a convenient counter.

"Computer it is, then," he said, rapidly calculating how much money they had left to spend within their limit. "Let's see, we've already spent..." he trailed off, trying to do the math in his head. Mental calculations were always difficult for him - numbers tended to trail off and get lost in the void of voices that was always hovering around him.

"Roku-man go-sen yen," Nagi reeled off when it seemed that Schuldig was waiting for him to answer. "About six hundred fifty dollars."

Schuldig blinked at him. "Ah... right. Why doesn't it surprise me that you're a lightening calculator as well? How much do we have left of the two thousand dollars, then?"

Nagi thought for a moment. "A little less than a hundred and thirty-five thousand yen," he calculated, converting the currency in his head since all the prices were listed in yen. Schuldig nodded, pleased, and caught the eye of one of the salespeople.

"Can I help you?" the man asked pleasantly, eyeing the game system Schuldig had set down. "Were you interested in the Genesis?"

"I was, but I changed my mind," Schuldig told him. "We want a real computer - something not too difficult to use, but that will connect to the Internet. We've got about a hundred and thirty thousand yen - what will that get us?"

The man looked thoughtful. "Well, that depends. Are you going to need a fast, colour printer, or will slow black and white do?"

"Uh... slow black and white for now," Schuldig decided arbitrarily. "We can always upgrade later."

"And what size monitor are you looking for? We've got a Sony 13" model on sale right now. Also, how will you be connecting to the Internet? The speed of the modem makes a difference in the price."

"Shit," Schuldig swore, frowning. "I can't remember how Crawford connects his computer. We'll worry about the connection later, I guess. Just the basic system for now."

The man walked them through several more choices, - motherboard, processor, operating system - most of which Schuldig made arbitrarily or based on price difference. Nagi watched the proceedings silently, with wide eyes tracking back and forth between Schuldig and the salesman as they spoke.

When they'd finally agreed on a system and arranged to have it delivered with the rest of their packages, Schuldig used the last of their allotted money to buy a couple of video games for the computer. He led Nagi out of the store with a satisfied smirk on his face, Nagi's surprised happiness travelling up his arm from the connection of their hands and giving him a disgustingly warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

They passed a dessert store on their way back out of the mall, and Schuldig paused in front of it. "I think this calls for a celebration," he decided happily, tugging Nagi's hand to direct him into the little cafe. "Ever had ice cream before?"

"Once," Nagi replied, following him obediently. "One of my Masters got married, and let me eat with everyone else at the party." He paused, then added softly, "That was the same one who taught me to read." There was a feeling of affection and wistful longing attached to those memories, as though he regretted having lost her as his Master. Well, small wonder, if she treated him so well.

Schuldig glanced down at him. _*How did you get bounced around so much, anyway?*_ he asked curiously as they stood in line. _*That's at least four different Masters that I know you've had...*_

 _*I've had seven,*_ Nagi told him. _*My Masters keep getting challenged for me.*_

 _*Ah,*_ Schuldig nodded. _*That makes sense.*_ In the bottom-feeder circles Takatori - and, therefore, Crawford and Schuldig - moved in, any Master could be challenged at any time for possession of his sub. People had finally stopped challenging Crawford for Schuldig after his third or fourth extremely bloody victory. Schuldig didn't know where Crawford had learned to fight; the precognitive didn't LOOK like much, but he was death incarnate in a fight. Bare hands, knife fight, martial arts - it didn't matter. He never took a hit, because his powers allowed him to see what his opponent was going to do before they ever moved, and he packed one hell of a punch.

They'd reached the front of the line, and Schuldig ordered for both of them. A simple vanilla cone for Nagi - he probably wouldn't be able to even finish that much, this close to lunch - and a double-scoop chocolate fudge and cookie dough cone for himself. They sat in a corner away from the window and the rest of the crowd, slurping at the cool treats contentedly.

Nagi actually managed to finish the ice cream, though he left the cone. Schuldig figured out why when the boy's eyes widened as he bit into his own cone - the kid hadn't realized the cones were edible.

The subway was even more crowded on the way back than it had been on the way there - Schuldig gritted his teeth and clung to the overhead grip like a lifeline, fighting to keep his shields strong enough to keep him from getting lost. Nagi watched him in alarmed concern, but he couldn't take the focus from his concentration long enough to explain what was wrong. When they finally made it to the relative quiet of Takatori Towers, Schuldig slumped against the elevator walls with a relieved sigh.

Nagi was still watching him, looking half panicked. "I'm okay," Schuldig told him gruffly. "I have got to convince Crawford to let me have my own car. I still have trouble blocking out that many people sometimes. Crawford's been helping me with my shields, but I've got a long way to go." He shrugged, straightening and grateful his limbs weren't shaking the way they sometimes did. "It's not so bad as long as I'm not in contact with anybody. No," he added as Nagi instantly tried to tug his hand out of Schuldig's grip, "I don't mean you, I mean random strangers. Your mind is pretty quiet." He ruffled the boy's hair in an unthinking gesture of affection, and Nagi smiled hesitantly back at him.

The packages hadn't arrived yet when they got back to the apartment. Schuldig started to suggest watching another movie, then grimaced when he remembered the stack of dishes waiting for him. He sighed. "You can crash here and watch a movie," he told Nagi, heading for the kitchen. "I've gotta do the dishes."

A whisper of thought crossed the boy's mind, easy to pick up on now that he was able to lower his shields a bit. "What is it?" he asked, turning back to see Nagi still standing by the doorway.

"I... could help?" Nagi suggested, making it sound like more of a question. Schuldig started to tell him that there was no need, then changed his mind. If Nagi was taking enough initiative to volunteer for something, he certainly wasn't going to discourage him!

"Sure," agreed readily, gesturing for the boy to follow him into the kitchen. He indicated a dishtowel hanging on a rack, and started the water running in the sink. "You dry, and put everything away. Here," and he gently placed the memory of where everything was kept into the boy's head. "So you know where stuff goes."

Nagi blinked, sorting through the disorientation that always came with shared knowledge, and nodded. "Okay." He picked up the dishtowel, and stood waiting.

Schuldig hated doing dishes, with a passion. That was mostly because he didn't do them often enough, and the dishes at the bottom of the sink were always disgusting and mouldy. Wrinkling his nose, he scrubbed at them hard to get the caked food off. Nagi kept up with him, drying the dishes as Schuldig passed them to him and putting them neatly away where they belonged.

He was on the second-to-last dish when he saw Nagi drop the plate he was holding from the corner of his eye. The ceramic platter fell towards the floor, where it would surely smash into a thousand pieces on the hard tile. Nagi's face was full of horror, and Schuldig caught a spike of fear in his mind. Despite all the reassurances, Nagi was still terrified that he would be badly punished for breaking the dish.

It happened so fast that at the time he really had no idea what was happening. Only later would he sort it out; there was a brief burst of the humming noise he'd noted the day before, sharp and loud, and abruptly the dish was back in Nagi's hands, safe and sound. Schuldig hadn't even finished turning around yet - he stared at the relieved expression on Nagi's face in shock.

"How did you do that?" he demanded, making Nagi look at him uncertainly.

"Do what?"

"Catch the plate," Schuldig elaborated, watching him closely. "No one's reflexes are that good - it should have hit the floor. How did you catch it?"

Nagi looked puzzled. "I had to," he said, as if that explained everything. "It would have broken."

"You had to," Schuldig repeated, leaning against the counter with a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Don't you realize what you just did?" Nagi shook his head, eyes wide, confused as to why his almost dropping the dish seemed to have pleased Schuldig. "You used your powers to catch it," Schuldig told him gleefully. "Just like you used them this morning to push me off the bed - and yesterday to keep yourself from wetting your pants, I think. Christ, kid, you're hardly going to need any training at all - you just need to learn to get conscious control of the instinctive ability you already have."

Nagi blinked back at him, not sure what he was talking about. Schuldig turned and put the pot he'd been scrubbing on the edge of the table. "Knock it off," he instructed, moving to stand behind Nagi with one hand on his shoulder. "Just push it off the edge - but don't move," he added, tightening his grip as Nagi started to walk forward, mystified.

He could feel the conflict in the boy's mind. He'd been given an order, he HAD to follow it, but Schuldig wouldn't let him move to do it. Somehow he had to move the pot without touching it...

As the turmoil in his mind peaked, another burst of that subsonic humming came, and the pot rattled and fell off the edge of the table. Schuldig grinned in triumph, patting Nagi's shoulder and projecting pleasure and pride as the boy stared at it in shock. "See, I told you!" he crowed, ruffling the dark hair again. "You've had control of your powers all along - you developed it to help you follow orders! It's just that whenever you're in too much conflict - panicked, afraid, whatever - it manifests as a general burst of force instead of being applied with a specific purpose."

Nagi swallowed hard, still staring at the pot on the floor. "I... I really did that?" he whispered, voice trembling.

"Yeah, you really did," Schuldig confirmed, projecting the pleasure and pride again. "You're gonna be one hell of an addition to this team, kiddo. Fuck, in some ways you'll be the most powerful of the three of us!" He grinned, eyes sparkling.

The intercom by the door buzzed before Nagi could think of something to say to that astonishing idea - that he would be more powerful than his Masters - and Schuldig strode over to punch the receive button. "Yeah?"

"Schuldig-san, several packages have arrived for you," the receptionist informed him cheerfully. "Would you like them sent up?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said, punching the code into the security panel that would unlock the elevator doors for this floor. They had the entire floor to themselves, and no one could get to them without that code. Their apartment took up only a small section of the floor, despite the size of the rooms - the rest of it was Crawford's office, a security station that was a duplicate of the one in the security office, a large, open, matted room for physical practice, and a smaller shielded room for practice with their powers.

It took a few moments for the deliveryman to make his way up, but they got the packages sorted out in short order. Once the man was gone again, Schuldig helped Nagi put away his new clothes in the drawers and closet he'd been given. Finally only the computer was left, lying in pieces in several boxes scattered throughout the room.

Schuldig eyed the boxes. They'd already opened one, and one look at the dozens of kanji in tiny print in the instruction manual told him he wasn't going to be much help. "I've got to finish cleaning the kitchen," he told the wide-eyed boy examining the manual. "Do you think you can set this up on your own? Just follow the instruction manuals." Nagi nodded, and Schuldig left him happily occupied with the boxes.

The boy came out only once while he was working, in search of tools. Schuldig thought it was a good sign that he was asking for things necessary to complete the task he'd been given - it meant that if given an objective in a mission, he might be able to go beyond the strict parameters to accomplish it. He let Nagi know in no uncertain terms how pleased he was that the boy had asked for the tools, and Nagi left clutching the screwdriver with his eyes shining.

Schuldig peeked in on him when he finished cleaning the kitchen, and found him buried in electronics, happily fiddling with circuit boards. "What are you doing?" he asked in curiosity when Nagi looked up at him.

"Setting the jumpers," Nagi told him, as if that should explain everything. Well, to someone who understood computers, maybe it would. Schuldig just shook his head and told him to carry on, before going out to the living room to flop down and read.

He hadn't seen hide or hair of the boy after that by the time Crawford came home, and was aware of him only as a kind of contented thoughtstream in the back of his mind. He got up automatically when Crawford came in, and went to take the older man's coat.

"Well?" Crawford asked as soon as he saw his slave. Schuldig shrugged.

"He's doing okay. I think I've managed to work it out so that we won't get a repeat of yesterday's problem, and he's a lot more responsive today. God knows he seems to be having a blast messing with that new computer."

Crawford nodded, unsurprised by the news that they'd purchased a computer - not surprising, if he'd foreseen the event. "I've arranged with Takatori to get another connection in our apartment to the building's fibre optic line," he said, confirming Schuldig's suspicion that he'd known about it. "I'll also take care of getting the equipment he needs to use it."

"Eh, you computer junkies can discuss it among yourselves," Schuldig teased. "It's all Greek to me. I saw him use his powers today, too. He's convinced he has them now, at any rate. Are we ordering out tonight, or scrounging?"

"Ordering," Crawford said, moving towards the phone. "I'll take care of it - you get Nagi."

Schuldig went down along the hall towards their bedrooms, noting with amusement the dim glow of a computer monitor from within Nagi's room. Apparently he'd gotten it set up successfully. He tapped on the door, then peeked around the doorjamb.

Nagi was perched on his desk chair, which was just a little too low for him relative to the desktop. He had several of the manuals open in front of him, and was doing something esoteric on the system itself. "What are you doing now?" Schuldig asked, and Nagi jumped a bit as if he hadn't been aware that he had company. Guiltily, the boy turned to face him.

"I'm sorry - I didn't hear you come in!" he whispered, ducking his head. "I'm configuring the settings. Did you want me for something?"

"Just dinner," Schuldig told him. "Don't worry about it - you looked like you were having fun. Do you like it?"

Nagi considered that for a moment. "I... think so," he said at last. "I'm not sure how to tell."

"Well, it looked like you were, anyway. When you finish that, come out to the kitchen, food'll be here soon." He walked away, pleased that he'd found something tangible for Nagi to enjoy. It was, he thought, a step in the right direction.


	3. Chapter 3

_He fought another yawn, knowing his Master wouldn't like it if he showed how tired he was. It was late, very late - long past the time when his Master usually sent him to bed. Perhaps he'd been forgotten? It would have been easy - he was almost out of sight behind the Master's chair at the table, where he'd been speaking with someone on the telephone for what seemed like forever. He squelched the urge to fidget. His Master had been so proud of him for his discipline - he'd said so. Pleasing the Master was everything._

_Finally the Master hung up the phone. He stood and started to move away down the hall, not even looking to see if his newest and youngest slave would follow him._

_He did, of course - not to follow was unthinkable. The Master hadn't excused him yet. He trotted along on his spindly little legs, needing to take three steps for each of the Master's just to keep up. He waited for the expected order to go off to his own bed for the night, but it never came._

_They arrived at the Master's bedroom, where two of the female slaves were waiting to undress him and prepare him for bed. He stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed, not sure what he was supposed to do now. The Master ignored him, as though he wasn't even there, but that didn't give him leave to misbehave._

_Finally the Master shooed the two girls out the door, locking it behind them. He came over to sit on the bed in his brocade robe, his not insubstantial weight making the bedsprings on the Western style bed creak. He patted the silk sheets beside him invitingly._

_Uncertainly, the boy approached and was reassured by a nod. He tried to hop up to sit at the indicated spot, but the edge of the bed was raised even higher than most Western beds, and he couldn't get up. Chuckling, the Master leaned down and lifted him under his arms, bringing him up to sit on the bed. He stayed absolutely still, eyes wide - sometimes the Master patted him on the head or touched his shoulder when he was pleased, but he'd never been touched like THAT before. Did that mean he was very pleased?_

_"Speak to me, child," the Master commanded. "Tell me, do you like it here?"_

_"Sir?" he asked hesitantly, unsure what the correct answer was._

_"Do you like it better than your last Master's harem?"_

_The answer to that was easy - even if he hadn't liked it better, it would have been wrong to say so. "Oh, yes sir! Much."_

_The Master reached out and stroked his hair, not ruffling it as he usually did but caressing the way his kaa-san used to do. "That's good. I want you to be happy here. You're a very special little boy, and I have great plans for you."_

_He basked in the praise, flushing happily and trying not to squirm with pleasure. The Master thought he was special! Special slaves got special treatment, just like his kaa-san told him so long ago - months and months ago, it was. He still missed his kaa-san sometimes, late at night in bed, but he knew she would have wanted him to be happy and please his Master._

_"Very special indeed," the Master continued, moving his hand so that he was touching skin instead of hair. His hand stroked down the boy's cheek and back up the side of his neck, making him shiver. The touch was strange, unlike anything he'd felt before, and it made him a little uncomfortable. "You want to please me, don't you?"_

_He hesitated, not sure the command to speak was still in effect. "Yes, sir, very much," he finally ventured, and the Master smiled at him. He smiled back, glad he'd made the right choice._

_"You would never disobey an order, would you?" he was asked, and he shook his head vigorously. The action displaced the Master's hand from his cheek to his shoulder, and the man started stroking his arm instead. "You're such a good boy. So eager and willing to please. Do you know what it is that the slaves do, here in my room at night?"_

_He shook his head hesitantly. He'd heard some of the older slaves talking about 'servicing' the Master at night, but he didn't know what it meant. He said as much, and the Master laughed._

_"Well, it's a very special privilege. Only my very best slaves get to do it. Would you like to do it?"_

_"Oh, YES!" he said, eyes wide at the very idea. His kaa-san would be so proud, if she only knew!_

_"What a good little boy you are!" the Master exclaimed. "Now, it's going to seem a little strange at first. But you be a good boy and do what I say, and you'll be rewarded."_

_He nodded, watching with curiosity as the Master's hand trailed down from his shoulder to his chest. "Take off your shirt," the Master commanded, and he did so. He was dressed in the tight sleeveless shirt and tight pants the Master had given him his first day there, which he had been commanded to always wear unless he was told otherwise. "Good boy," the Master said. "Now take off your pants."_

_He had to stand to do that, sliding off the side of the bed after glancing at the Master for permission. Getting the pants off was a bit of a struggle, but he managed without even tripping like he usually did. The Master watched him avidly, dark eyes bright with some unknown emotion. He could feel the stare on him like a hot weight, heavy and a little disturbing. "Good boy," the Master praised, and his voice had gone oddly rough. "Now the underwear - you can't be wearing anything at all for this."_

_He wondered what on earth he would need to be naked to do - the only thing HE knew of that the slaves were stripped for was punishment, but the Master had promised that this was a privilege. He obeyed the order hesitantly, a strange fluttering in his gut starting when the Master reach out to touch his shoulder again._

_"Back up on the bed, now," the man ordered, lifting him up again. His fingers lingered, sliding over his hips and stomach and making him shiver. "Kneel there, and let me look at you."_

_He knelt, tucking his feet under him properly, the pose a little bit difficult to manage on the soft mattress. He kept his hands at his sides, fighting the urge to cover himself from the Master's eyes. It was silly - the Master had ever right to look at or touch him whenever he wanted to. There was no reason to be frightened of it - this was a special privilege!_

_The Master's hands reach out once more, trailing all over his chest and thighs, making him shiver because it tickled a little. "So soft," the man exclaimed in wonderment. "Such a shame your last Master had no care for you - your back should never have been marred like this," he added, fingering one of the many scars on his back. "Ah well, no matter. Your front is perfect, and your demeanour more than makes up for any flaws you have."_

_He wasn't sure what all that fancy speech meant, but he got the idea that his Master was pleased again. He flushed with pleasure, smiling happily. "Yes, so pretty when you smile, boy," the Master nodded. "Spread your knees a little now - yes, just like that." His legs were nudged apart by the Master's large hand, until he felt even more exposed. The Master's hand trailed up the inside of his thigh, caressing over the place he went pee from. He shivered again, the rough callus on the Master's fingers feeling almost painful on the sensitive skin there._

_"Now you just be a good boy, and hold still," the Master breathed, his voice tight and hoarse. He went still, holding every muscle in place just like he'd been ordered to. It stopped the shivers, but didn't make the fluttery feeling in his stomach go away._

_"I'm going to show you something very special," the Master said, reaching down to undo the tie on his robe. It fell away, revealing that he, too, was wearing nothing. "Look, see the differences between us."_

_He looked, and saw many differences other than size. There was some hair on the Master's chest, not much but some. It circled around the two places that sometimes stood up when he was cold - 'nipples', the older slaves called them. The Master's were standing up now, even though it was warm in the room. The hair met in a thin line, and traveled down over his stomach to a much thicker patch, around the place where HE went pee. It looked funny - all hard and solid instead of soft and flexible, and it stood up away from his body. It was also dark red, like it was burned or hurt, and he stared at it in fascination._

_"Isn't it pretty?" the Master asked, and he nodded although he didn't think it was very pretty at all. "Touch it."_

_Hesitantly, he reached out to run his fingers along it. It twitched beneath his hand, jumping like it was alive, and he snatched his hand back, startled. The Master laughed, and reached down to run his own big hand along it, stroking back and forth down the length._

_"Someday I'll let you do this," the Master said, his breathing becoming ragged like he'd run for a long time. "I'll teach you how to touch it with your hands, and with your mouth, too. You won't like it at first, but you're a good little boy and I know you'll do your best. And eventually you will like it just as much as I do."_

_He continued to watch with wide, uncertain eyes, keeping himself from shivering by sheer force of will. He wanted to please his Master, he DID, but this just seemed so strange... but the Master said he would enjoy it, and the Master was always right. The alternative - punishment like what he'd seen happen to his kaa-san - was unthinkable._

_The Master was grunting now, his face red with exertion. His eyes trailed over the slender, exposed boy sitting before him, his free hand coming out to touch him again. He stroked the boy's chest in time with the strokes on his own body, and then his face went tight all of a sudden and hot white liquid sprayed from his body._

_At first he thought the Master had peed on him, and he was shocked. But the fluid coating his chest and stomach was thicker and heavier than pee, and a different colour. The Master reached out to rub the sticky stuff over his chest and thighs, spreading it all around on the boy's body. It started to cool almost immediately, congealing into a wet, disgusting mess. "So beautiful," the Master whispered, eyes still feverish. "So very beautiful. You will be the pride of my harem, boy. Now, come lie down here beside me. From now on you will always sleep here, with me, so that I may instruct you every night. You'll be a good boy and learn fast, won't you?"_

_He nodded as he crawled up to the head of the bed to lie down, wishing he dared wipe the awful stuff off of him. But the Master had put it there, and hadn't said he could remove it, so it would stay. The Master curled up behind him, pulling him against his much larger body so that he could feel THAT part pressed up against his bottom. It didn't seem as hard now, but it still made him uncomfortable. The Master slowly fell asleep, one hand possessively clutching the boy's naked hip..._

For the second night in a row Schuldig was shaken out of his nightmares by terror, sending him bolt upright in the bed. He steadied himself with his hand on the headboard, panting and trying to gather his scattered wits. He slammed his shields up as soon as he realized what was happening, blocking out the flood of memories that followed that initial dream. The first nightmare had been bad enough, he didn't need to know the details of Nagi's Masters' perversions. The boy had only been four years old, for crying out loud!

As soon as he had himself under control, he slid out of the bed and ran for the boy's room. No way was he leaving the poor kid trapped in THOSE dreams any longer than he had to! He burst into Nagi's room, striding right over to the bed and reaching out to shake him, bracing himself for the push he knew was coming.

It was stronger this time, a strangled shriek escaping Nagi's throat as he woke abruptly and his powers flung Schuldig all the way across the room and into the wall. It stunned him, and he staggered for a moment. He realized from the way the boy was wildly eyeing the room that he wasn't completely awake yet, still trapped in the horror of the dream.

"Nagi, WAKE UP!" he snapped, backing the order by a burst of mental static to pierce the boy's fear. Nagi jerked his head around to stare at Schuldig, panting and trembling badly.

"Sch... Schuldig?" he whispered, voice ragged with tears and terror. His eyes filled, fat drops spilling over onto his cheeks as he cried. "Schu..."

"Shh, I'm here, you're safe," Schuldig soothed him, coming forward slowly to avoid startling him again. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and gathered the sobbing boy into his arms. "It's okay. They can't hurt you any more. My god, those sick bastards - you were just a little kid!"

Nagi cried into his naked shoulder, sobbing his little heart out with all the pain he'd held inside for so long finally coming to the surface. Schuldig manoeuvred them so they were in the same position they'd been in the night before, him laying on his back with Nagi tucked up against him, head on his shoulder. He stroked the boy's shoulder soothingly, projecting reassurance and affection as strongly as he could manage. "It's okay," he told him over and over, vocally and mentally, as the tears flowed.

"It h-hurt..." Nagi stuttered, hardly aware of what he was saying but needing to get the feelings out. "It hurt so m-much, and it n-never stopped like he said it w-would..."

"It doesn't always hurt," Schuldig murmured, hugging him tightly. "Sometimes it can be good. Those bastards just never cared enough to make it good for you, that's all. And you were way too little for it when they started. You never had a chance, liebe."

The German nickname slipped from him automatically, but as he thought about it he decided it suited the boy. "Liebchen," he whispered again, stroking his hair. "I'll never let them do that to you again, I promise. Never!" He closed his eyes, feeling the determination well up in his chest, and sharing it with Nagi. "Just go to sleep, liebe. I'll be here to guard your dreams and keep you safe."

For the second night in a row Nagi fell asleep in his arms, face tear-streaked and oddly peaceful, and he reflected as he fell into his own slumber that could get used to this 'helping others' thing if he wasn't careful...

 

* * *

Schuldig reclined against the headboard, reading one of his German novels to the accompaniment of the clicking keys on the keyboard. Nagi was perched on his new desk chair, one that was high enough to put him at a comfortable height relative to the desk. His hands hovered over the keyboard, unmoving - rather than learning to type, he'd learned to use his powers to manipulate the keys. It was still a bit clumsy and slow, but considering he'd only had about three months of practice, he was doing remarkably well.

It had been Crawford's idea to have him use his powers to type - an exercise to help him improve his fine control, he'd said. Nagi had taken to using his powers like a duck to water, once he got over his initial disbelief of them. He used them for everything now - a small trail of floating items could frequently be seen tagging along after him when he went somewhere inside the apartment. It amused Schuldig to no end to watch him unthinkingly reach out to grab something all the way across the room, and have it fly into his hand. If it weren't for the fact that Crawford and Schuldig forced him to practice in physical training with them, and the fact that he wasn't allowed to visibly use his powers outside the apartment, he would have been in danger of becoming incredibly lazy.

In just the three months he'd been with them, his progress had been astounding, though his learning curve was starting to level out now. He'd finally managed to grasp the concept of 'wanting' something now - he could freely tell Schuldig what his preference was in certain cases. Of course his 'preference' tended to resemble what he thought his Master WANTED him to want, but sometimes the choice was clearly his own. For example, given free time and a choice between reading a book, watching a movie and working on his computer, so long as Schuldig made it clear that HE didn't care which the boy chose, Nagi inevitably spent every free moment on the computer.

He was finally starting to get aggressive in their physical training, as well. Crawford was teaching him to integrate his powers into his fighting abilities, and he was showing signs of becoming a very dangerous opponent. He was beginning to grasp the idea that he had skills and abilities that his teammates lacked, and that they genuinely wanted his input on plans and strategies. Crawford always had final veto, of course, but now Nagi was truly part of the team.

He still wasn't 'fixed', not by a long shot. It would take more than three months to undo the damage thirteen years of abuse had wrought. He still had trouble eating without explicit permission, and he never slept well unless he'd been told to sleep. Schuldig had given up the pretence of separate rooms by the end of the first week - he inevitably ended up in the boy's bed, soothing his nightmares, and he was tired of having to get up in the middle of the night to change beds. Nagi kept most of his clothes and his computer and books in his own room, but slept with Schuldig at night.

He also still took just about anything as a rebuke, so much so that Crawford and Schuldig both had to be extremely careful of what they said and did around him. One unintentional harsh look could send him back into meek silence for a day or more, and the one time Crawford had yelled at Schuldig in his presence Nagi had gone back to needing instructions for EVERYTHING for a week, afraid he would merit the same treatment.

Additionally, Schuldig had to be very careful to watch Nagi's mental reactions to some orders. Nagi would do anything he was told to do, no matter how much he personally disliked the activity - Schuldig could have told him to eat shit and swallow it and he would have, with no outward hesitation. But so long as Schuldig kept an eye on what the boy was really thinking, he was able to rescind or change any orders that truly upset Nagi.

Even now he still wouldn't initiate an activity, though he could and would go outside of the initial parameters to complete a task he'd been given. He'd taken to ignoring Crawford's presence almost completely - he would still obey any order given to him by the American, of course, but it was Schuldig that he looked to for praise and approval, and for instructions.

Schuldig glanced over to see what the boy was up to, and saw a black screen with dozens of lines of text. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously. He didn't know much about computers, but he recognized programming language when he saw it. As predicted, Nagi had picked up English almost as fast as he heard it, though he read and understood it better than he spoke it.

"Crawford told me to find out what 'hacking' was, and learn it," the Japanese boy replied, never taking his eyes off the screen. "It's fun - very challenging."

Schuldig snorted and shook his head. Presumably Crawford had been given some sort of vision about the boy's future usefulness to the team that prompted him to instruct Nagi to learn to hack. It shouldn't have surprised him, really - it was exactly the sort of thing Nagi's sharp mind was suited for. "Good luck," was all he said, returning his attention to his book. He was beginning to find that he relaxed better when Nagi was in sight, which was why he was in here reading instead of out in the living room with Crawford or sprawled on his own bed.

 _*Schuldig,*_ Crawford's voice came into his mind. _*Bring Nagi out here. We've got a job tonight.*_ Schuldig perked up, interested. The American had been hinting for some time that he was thinking of bringing Nagi along to one of their assignments for Takatori, as part of his training. Schuldig wasn't certain the boy was ready for a step like that - he was still uncomfortable in the presence of anyone but the two of them - but Crawford would of course know whether anything would go wrong. Apparently tonight would be the night.

"Mission," he told Nagi, sitting up and putting his book aside. The boy glanced up, the fragile, uncertain look creeping into his eyes that he always got when Schuldig and Crawford left him alone to go to work. "Don't look at me like that," Schuldig added with a grin. "You're coming too."

Nagi's eyes widened in astonishment, but he obediently shut down the computer and trotted after Schuldig to the main room. Crawford was sitting there in his typical business suit, examining his 9mm pistol. He glanced up as they entered, and nodded for them to sit down. Nagi obeyed instantly, but Schuldig moved to retrieve his own pistols from the locked cabinet where they were kept. He loved his guns, loved the scent of gunpowder and heft of the heavy weapon, loved the feel of the silky metal barrel and the smooth grip.

Crawford shook his head, and gestured him away from the cabinet. "Not tonight," he instructed, and Schuldig glanced at him curiously. He always carried his guns, except when they were going to one of the BDSM parties. "I'll be the only one armed tonight - you and Nagi are for show."

Schuldig frowned at him, not liking the direction this was going. "Why?" he asked bluntly, coming to stand behind the couch and unconsciously reaching out to rest one hand on Nagi's head reassuringly. If he was about to get into another fight with the American, he didn't want Nagi panicking again. "Where are we going?"

"Shigeru's monthly party," Crawford answered calmly, his golden eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts. Nagi stiffened beneath Schuldig's hand at the name of his most recent Master, and Schuldig swore.

 _*What the fuck are you THINKING?*_ he hissed at the precognitive in disbelief. _*You can't take Nagi to one of those parties! He's not ready for that shit yet! A conference or political gathering, maybe, but not that!*_

Crawford's expression chilled by about twenty degrees, but it didn't intimidate the telepath in the least. "It is necessary for all three of us to be present tonight," was all he said, as if that should be the end of it. Normally it would have been - he was all but saying that he'd had an important vision of the night's events - but Schuldig was not just dropping this subject. Nagi still hadn't developed the necessary backbone to say 'no' to someone other than his Master giving him an order, and wouldn't for some time yet. He would be shark bait, and Crawford wouldn't be able to watch him constantly and do his job at the same time. Schuldig would be all but useless for protection, since he was a slave as well.

"You can't!" he exclaimed aloud, forcing his volume down when he felt Nagi jerk in reaction to his tone. _*Crawford, you can't do this,*_ he continued mentally, struggling to stay reasonable. _*He can't handle it. One order from one of those fuckers could undo every bit of progress he's made in the last three months. Worse yet, now that his powers are growing, if he panics or gets too confused he could blow half the room up!*_

"It is necessary, and it is NOT open for debate," Crawford repeated, glaring back at him. "Nagi will handle it, and that is that." He stood and brushed at a piece of imaginary lint on his jacket, holstering the gun in one smooth motion. "Your outfits are in the boxes on the table. I'll be waiting downstairs - don't take too long."

Ignoring the furious - and rather creative, if anatomically impossible - curses Schuldig was projecting at him, he strode to the door and out into the hall, letting it close behind him. Schuldig gaped after him for a long moment, unable to believe the sheer temerity of the man. "Bastard," he finally growled, free hand clenching into a fist. "You're gonna PAY for this, Brad," he promised under his breath.

"Sch-shuldich?" Nagi stuttered hesitantly, bringing his attention back to the boy in front of him. Nagi had twisted to stare up at him with wide, frightened blue eyes, and he felt guilty for upsetting the kid so badly. "Wh-what's going to happen?"

"We're going to one of the parties," Schuldig told him, telling his voice to be gentle and amazed when it obeyed him. "It'll be okay, I promise. You just do what Crawford tells you, and stick close to me, and you'll be all right. You don't have to follow anyone's orders but Crawford's, okay?"

Nagi nodded, but he was shivering and scared. Schuldig cursed again under his breath, and took the boy's hand, tugging. "Let's go see what he's got for us to wear."

The boxes on the kitchen table were plain white, with no outward indications of what lay within. Schuldig pried up the top of one, and saw a mass of sheer black fabric. He shook out the first piece, and instantly knew it was meant for him - the nearly transparent shirt would have come to Nagi's knees. He dropped it again, and yanked open the second box.

He caught his breath at the sight of the leather inside, and added a few more curses and maledictions to his thoughts of Crawford. _*Fuck you, you sadistic bastard!*_ he projected at the American angrily, hoping Crawford would pick up on the furious thought. The harness and briefs were similar to the outfit Nagi had worn on the night Crawford had first brought him home, all black leather and silver fastenings. The boy shrank back against Schuldig's side at the mere sight of it, shaking harder and clutching at the telepath's shirt.

"It'll be okay," he told the kid, but he knew his heart wasn't in it. He was absolutely livid that Crawford would put the boy through this - and even if it WAS necessary that they all three be there tonight, there was no excuse for making him wear this. He'd never required Schuldig to wear something so degrading - in fact he mostly allowed the telepath to choose his own party outfits, so long as they were appropriate.

Angrily, he dumped the contents of both boxes onto the table. A tube of copper body glitter tumbled out of his, and he understood why the material was so sheer - it would let the glitter underneath be visible. Cursing, he scooped up all the clothes and strode to his room, muttering imprecations in German and English under his breath as he moved. Nagi trailed along behind him, radiating fear and panic, and he tried to make himself calm down for the kid's sake.

He helped Nagi dress first, then directed him to sit on the bed while he got ready. He could see the leather-clad boy behind him in the mirror, and the sight infuriated him further, but he kept a tight reign on his temper. The telekinetic was silent, knees pulled up to his shoulders with his arms wrapped around them, and his eyes followed Schuldig's movements unfailingly.

Reluctantly, he had to admit that the outfit Crawford had chosen for him looked damn good. The copper body glitter smeared on thick and shimmering, and with the sheer fabric over top it looked like he was dressed in tightly interwoven copper strands. The only thing that saved him from total indecency was the solid band of copper material around his groin, in the form of a g-string. Thank god it was well into summer, or they both would have frozen! As it was, they'd both have to wear long coats until they got to the party, to be street-legal.

He projected reassurance as strongly as he could manage at Nagi as they grabbed their coats and headed out the door, burying his fury as deeply as possible. Oh, Crawford was going to get an earful when they were back and the boy was safely in bed, all right! Schuldig had been getting increasingly fed-up with his Master over the last year, and especially over the last three months, but this might very well be the last straw.

As if to add insult to injury, Takatori ordered them all to ride inside the limo with him, rather than trailing him in Crawford's car as they usually did. It was an excuse to let him drool all over Nagi, Schuldig knew, fuming as he tried to block out the waves of overwhelming lust coming from the powerful politician. The man was just disgusting, no question about it, and Schuldig hated being in his company more than anything else on earth.

The ride to the party was interminable, Nagi huddling in one corner of the front seat with Schuldig beside him, hovering protectively and trying not to glare at Crawford and Takatori on the other side.

"Well, it seems you've done wonders with your newest toy, Crawford-san," Takatori said heartily, eyeing Nagi like a rich dessert he wanted to eat. "Quite the quiet, obedient little thing, isn't he? You always seem to end up with the gems. I must admit I regret giving Schuldig up to you - the boy I chose to train instead didn't work out nearly as well." He switched his lascivious glance to the German for a long moment, and Schuldig suppressed a shudder at the memory of how close he'd come to being Takatori's personal sex toy. Only Crawford's intervention and his own mental manipulations had saved him.

"I don't suppose you're any more disposed to lending him out for a night than you were before?" Takatori continued, and Schuldig stiffened. It didn't matter whether the man was speaking of Nagi or Schuldig - neither was acceptable.

There was a pause that felt horribly long to Schuldig, before Crawford spoke - Schuldig shot him an incredulous glance when it seemed that he might actually agree. "No," the American finally said, much to Schuldig's relief. "It takes a difficult balance to train them both to be good slaves and to be competent bodyguards for you, Takatori-sama. I'm afraid breaking that training for even one night with you could prove disastrous."

"Ah, well," Takatori sighed, shrugging. "Next time you express interest in a toy, I'll just have to make certain to get it first, then!" He laughed, as if he'd made some colossally funny joke, his gut shaking with the motion. Crawford simply adjusted his glasses, giving Schuldig a cool look.

 _*Tell me you weren't seriously considering giving one of us to him,*_ Schuldig insisted, perturbed.

_*If I had, he would have taken it as permission to accost you whenever he liked,* the precognitive replied. *That is unacceptable, and would endanger our true purpose here.*_

Schuldig didn't like the underlying implication of that - that if it HADN'T put their mission at risk, Crawford would have agreed. _*You had better not start fucking with me now, Crawford,*_ he warned the American in a dangerous tone of voice. _*You swore when I agreed to go with you that he would never touch me, and you had damn well better keep that promise or I will blow your fucking mind out, shield or no shield!*_

Crawford maintained his silence, but the glance he flicked at Nagi told Schuldig that it hadn't been the German he'd been considering giving up. _*NO fucking WAY!*_ Schuldig snarled, fighting to keep his expression bland. _*Takatori lays one finger on him, and I will shoot it off,*_ he swore. _*You keep him and the other perverts OFF of Nagi, or I will go ballistic on you. Trust me, you do NOT want a pissed off telepath on your hands - I will make your life fucking miserable, do you hear me?*_

 _*I hear you,*_ Crawford replied calmly, not seeming disturbed in the least by Schuldig's vitriolic threats. _*Now pay attention to your job - we're almost there.*_

The party was crowded and noisy, as all these events were. Shigeru, the host of the party, was almost obscenely intimate about the way his gaze lingered on Schuldig and Nagi's crotches. He had been Master to both of them in the past, and seemed to feel that still gave him some proprietary rights over them. Crawford wasn't as quick as usual with his cool rebuttals, and Schuldig was starting to worry that his Master really wasn't planning on defending his two slaves from the predators.

He couldn't figure out what had gotten into the American. Ordinarily he was always right on top of events, ready to defend Schuldig from any attempt by one of the other Doms to order him around. His power always let him know when an incident was about to begin, and he was always there to head it off. But now he seemed almost to be hesitating, considering all the possibilities before reluctantly stepping forward to rescue Schuldig - or, more frequently, Nagi - from the sharks. Nagi stuck to Schuldig's side like glue, as if he hoped he could escape notice by blending in with the telepath. For his part, Schuldig did his best to keep any of the Doms from even thinking about trying something with the boy, but it was hard for him to keep track of everyone around them all at once.

Crawford seemed almost determined to separate them, as well - he would order Schuldig to fetch drinks while Nagi stayed behind, or worse yet order Nagi to fetch something while Schuldig stayed behind. Schuldig ranted at Crawford mentally, but either he wasn't listening or he simply didn't care what the telepath thought of his actions. Nagi grew more frightened and withdrawn as the night progressed, reacting to the numerous pinches and pats he received by retreating into his shell.

Schuldig was absolutely livid, and hard-pressed to hide it. He'd promised Nagi that he would protect the boy from exactly this sort of shit, and here he was with his hands tied. He couldn't do anything to help the boy without his Master's permission, and that permission wasn't forthcoming. He scowled as he saw yet another man try to fondle Nagi as the boy made his way back from fetching the latest round of drinks, and sent a sharp stab of agony at the offending Dom. The man pulled back and frowned, puzzled as to why he had suddenly developed a throbbing headache.

It was giving Schuldig a headache, too, trying to keep his shields up enough to prevent him from being caught up in the sadistic lusts of those around him, while still reading enough to block people from going after Nagi. Sooner or later he was going to miss something, and he just couldn't understand why Crawford wasn't taking this more seriously. Anyone else MIGHT have thought Schuldig was making an empty threat - Crawford surely had to see that the future showed a major battle between him and Schuldig if he continued on this path.

"Schuldig," Crawford said, his voice smooth an unworried as always. Schuldig turned to him, still trying to keep one eye on the approaching boy. "I'm getting hungry. Go fetch some of the food from the table over there." He nodded at the sideboard on the far side of the room, and Schuldig gave him a hard stare. There was another table full of food just twenty feet away on the other side - in the direction that Nagi was in. The man was deliberately sending him as far away as possible - why? Those golden eyes were blank, his shield impenetrable as always, and Schuldig reluctantly turned away to follow the order.

He wasn't even halfway there when the wave of terror hit him, making him stagger a few steps. He caught his balance and shielded automatically, throwing up his strongest defences to keep from getting sucked into the panic. Glancing around wildly, he caught sight of Nagi a few feet from Crawford, trembling as Shigeru fondled his ass roughly. Schuldig's nostrils flared with anger, and he switched his gaze to see what Crawford was doing.

The American leaned back against the wall, watching his slave being accosted with a blank expression, as though he didn't have a care in the world. Nagi was frozen, unable to move away and unable to protest, only his mind shrieking his confusion and repulsion. Shigeru gestured obscenely, and Schuldig saw the boy nod his head mindlessly. The Dom unzipped his leather trousers, bringing his dick out, and Nagi dropped to his knees to take the pulsing length into his mouth.

Schuldig swore aloud as he felt the boy's mind begin to recede, retreating into the self-imposed mental prison he'd created to protect himself from his life. He could practically SEE the progress he'd made at drawing the boy out go down the drain. He didn't even realize he was moving towards them until he started picking up the shocked thoughts of everyone around him - he was disobeying an order, returning to his Dom empty-handed after he'd been sent to fetch something.

 _*Fuck you,*_ he projected viciously at the room in general, watching with satisfaction as the confusion bloomed on their faces. He focused on the movement of Nagi's throat as he worked along the length of the cock in his mouth, and on the look of lustful pleasure on his former Master's face as he neared release. _*Crawford, so help me God, I will kill you if you don't stop them NOW,*_ he snarled, rapidly approaching the weird little tableaux. Crawford ignored him, eyes steady on the sight of his slave servicing another, his shield more solid than ever.

Schuldig reached his Master, and his hand shot out to grip the man's upper arm painfully. _*STOP THEM,*_ he insisted, squeezing hard enough to grate the bones in the American's arm together. Crawford gave him a cool look.

"Remove your hand, Schuldig," he said aloud, ignoring his teammate's utter fury. "You will be punished for this insubordination."

Schuldig turned to see that Shigeru had clenched his fists tightly in the boy's hair, pulling in a way that surely hurt. Nagi's face was blank, but there was a broken, haunted look in his dark blue eyes. _*Stop it,*_ Schuldig ordered him frantically. _*Nagi, for fuck's sake, just stop!*_

 _*You promised,*_ was his only reply, the thought so faint he could barely hear it even in the echoing emptiness of the boy's mind. _*Schuldig, you promised, you said you'd keep me safe, you PROMISED...*_

That broken, betrayed whisper was the last straw. His hand flashed out, closing on the butt of Crawford's gun before even he realized what he intended. He had the safety off and a round chambered without thinking about it, and the barrel was pressed tightly to the American's temple.

"Tell him to stop, or I will blow your fucking brains out," he growled, furious green eyes meeting inscrutable gold. "Tell him to stop, Crawford!"

There was dead silence around them, as the activity in the room ground to a halt. No one wanted to miss watching this little drama play out. The only sounds were his own breathing and the choked noises Nagi was making as he worked Shigeru.

"He is my slave to do with as I see fit," Crawford pointed out, apparently oblivious to the danger he was in. Schuldig's finger tightened on the trigger, lips pressed together in a thin white line. "As are you, Schuldig. Stand down."

"Fuck you," Schuldig bit out, he free hand coming up to tug sharply at the collar around his throat. The metal clasp at the back gave way under the strain, sending the thin leather strap tumbling to the ground. "I challenge you, you cold-hearted son of a bitch. For myself, and for Nagi. I have fucking had enough!"

They stared at each other, tension crackling between them. Against anyone else in the room, Schuldig knew that he would easily win a fight, but Crawford was another story. He couldn't use his telepathy to cloud the precognitive's mind, and the American's power let him anticipate any dirty trick Schuldig could possibly hope to pull. If it came to a fight, he was going to lose - but be damned if he wouldn't take Nagi down with him! He'd fry both their minds before he'd let the boy be subjected to this kind of thing again - he'd PROMISED.

"Nagi, come here," Crawford ordered sternly. Schuldig could feel the boy's hesitation - he wasn't finished with the task Shigeru had given him, but Crawford's orders took priority - but Shigeru solved the problem himself. He withdrew from the boy's mouth, apparently fascinated enough by the scene playing out before him that he was willing to forego his own satisfaction to see the results. Nagi stood and came forward to stand meekly before his Master, head down and eyes on the floor.

Crawford reached out and unfastened the clasp on his collar, catching the leather band in his other hand as it fell. Nagi jerked his head up to stare at him in disbelief, and Schuldig felt his own hand waver on the gun. He tightened his grip, wondering what the hell the other man was up to.

"I concede the challenge," Crawford announced, his golden eyes steady on Schuldig's. "The boy is yours - if you can keep him." He reached out and plucked his pistol from the telepath's suddenly numb fingers, holstering it and turning to walk away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Schuldig stared after him, feeling like he was in shock. Crawford had just willingly given up all claim on them without a fight, as though he'd been planning to do so all along. What the fuck? In the two and a half years Schuldig had been his slave, he had never once mentioned any plans to free the German.

A whimper from beside him made him remember that he had more important things to worry about than Crawford's mercurial temper. He reached out and drew Nagi to him in a tight hug. "Don't worry, Liebchen," he murmured, stroking the child's hair reassuringly. "It's gonna be okay. I'm your Master now, and I won't let anyone touch you. I SWEAR it."

Nagi looked up at him with trusting blue eyes, obviously trying hard not to cry. He nodded, his hand clenched in Schuldig's shirt like he was afraid the world would vanish around him if he let go.

"It won't be quite that easy, I'm afraid," came the voice of the party's host from behind them. Schuldig glanced back to see that Shigeru had zipped himself up, but was eyeing the two of them now like an unexpected treat he'd just been handed. He wasn't the only one - several of the more aggressive Doms were crowding around them, already fighting amongst themselves for the right to claim them.

There was one very easy way to solve this - he needed to have more status than all of them. "I challenge you," he snapped at Shigeru, the man with the highest status present that night. He wasn't at the top of the city by any means, but defeating him would give Schuldig some breathing room.

"Challenge me?" the man repeated in an amused tone of voice. "You can't be serious. You're a slave, boy, and I've taught you humility once before. Or don't you recall what happened the last time you rebelled against me?"

"You can't set your goons on me in the challenge ring," Schuldig countered, lip curled back in a snarl. "You'll have to fight me yourself. Or are you refusing the challenge?"

The murmurs around them picked up in volume a bit at that. No one seemed certain whether Shigeru would loose more face by refusing the challenge and thereby technically forfeiting, or by accepting the challenge from a 'slave', effectively granting Schuldig Dom status whether he won or lost.

"I accept, on one condition," Shigeru finally decided, setting the crowd around them buzzing. "If I defeat you, you will once again be MY slave, as well as Dorei. And I reserve the right to punish you appropriately for your defiance."

"Done," Schuldig bit out, already moving towards the ring that was being set up. Nagi trailed along behind him, looking shell-shocked. Schuldig couldn't blame him - the very idea of a slave becoming a Dom was probably mind-blowing to the poor kid. "You stay here," he ordered, pointing to one side of the ring. "And don't let ANYONE touch you." _*Use your powers if you have to, but try not to make it too obvious,*_ he added mentally. _*I'd rather you were obvious than that you let them touch you, though. Can you handle that?*_

 _*I... I'm really yours?*_ was the incredulous reply. _*Really, truly?*_

 _*Really, truly,*_ Schuldig replied, projecting a burst of affection and reassurance. _*Now and forever. Now, can you handle that order?*_

 _*YES!*_ Nagi answered, in a rush of wild relief. _*Anything. Just so long as I'm yours!*_

Schuldig ignored the tight feeling he got in his chest at that, concentrating on Shigeru who was just entering the ring on the other side. He sifted through the man's surface thoughts, checking to see if he was hiding any weapons. Sure enough he had a knife in one boot. He was remembering the fight Schuldig had put up the first time he'd tried to end his slavery - he'd very nearly killed six of Shigeru's best guards, and he had put three in the hospital. Shigeru was starting to reconsider how easy this fight would be, but he was still confident of his victory. All it took was one snap of my whip to cow the boy last time, the man reasoned. He may be able to fight guards and weaker Masters, but put him up against a REAL Dominant and he'll fold.

Schuldig snarled at him, gathering his power around him. He tightened his shields, and readied the burst of power that he would need to start messing with the perceptions of his opponent.

"No firearms, no outside help," the officiator declared. "You fight until one of you is unable to continue. Begin!"

Schuldig dropped into the defensive crouch he'd learned from Crawford, keeping his body balanced and his centre of balance low. Shigeru was no stranger to a fight - his stance was similar, up on the balls of his feet with his legs shoulder-width apart, a martial arts stance. They circled each other warily, feinting a few times to gauge each other's defences. Schuldig let his body and instincts take over the way Crawford had taught him, allowing the extensive training he'd had, but didn't remember, to guide his motions. It had been a long fight to get conscious control of some of that ability, but he was at the point now where he would never again have to worry about his fighting prowess deserting him in the middle of a battle.

Shigeru attacked abruptly, and Schuldig dodged him easily, retaliating with a kick of his own that landed solidly in the man's gut. The Japanese Dom fell back, gasping for air, but didn't drop out of defensive stance. He'd had some real training, Schuldig concluded, watching for another opening.

They sallied back and forth for a long few moments, until Schuldig could feel his breath burning painfully and sweat forming on his upper brow. Shigeru was in much worse shape, sweat soaking right through his shirt under his arms and at his back, and dripping into his eyes. He was obviously used to winning his fights right away - either that, or he hadn't been challenged in a while and had let himself start to get soft. Schuldig smirked at him, daring him to drop his defence long enough to wipe the stinging sweat out of his eyes.

Shigeru dropped his defence all right, but only to snatch the knife out of his boot. He brandished it as though it somehow guaranteed him the victory, smirking back at Schuldig who clearly could not be hiding any kind of weapon on his person.

Schuldig didn't let his superior expression waver as he reached out with his mind to touch that of his former Master's. He twisted, shifting the man's perceptions until any attack he made would be against thin air a foot to Schuldig's right. They parleyed back and forth like that for a while, Schuldig laughing in delight at the man's growing frustration. Finally tiring of the game, he convinced Shigeru's mind that he was standing still, while darting forward to snatch the knife out of his hand. He released his hold on the man's mind at the same moment, so that it appeared he had crossed the distance between them in an impossibly fast movement.

The crowd watching them gasped, caught up in the periphery of Schuldig's manipulations. He crowed his triumph, slashing out repeatedly with the knife to make several shallow cuts on Shigeru's torso. The other man scrambled backwards frantically, trying to evade the razor sharp edge of his own knife.

 _*This is for using me while I was helpless and catatonic in your possession,*_ he projected, eyes glittering at the man's startled exclamation. _*This is for the hell you put me through when I woke up,*_ he added, slashing again and coming within an inch of castrating the man. _*This is for all the times I was forced to FEEL your pleasure at raping me,*_ another slash at his crotch, _*for all the times you gave me to bastards even more sadistic than you were,*_ yet another stab, _*and for nearly selling me to Takatori, the most sadistic bastard of all.*_ He went for the throat this time, deliberately missing. Shigeru was shouting now, crying for mercy and trying to concede the fight.

"Oh, no," Schuldig growled. "I've waited three fucking YEARS for this, you sick son of a bitch. You are MINE." He snapped out with a low kick, crushing the man's knee joint and sending him stumbling to the ground. Pouncing, he held the larger man down with one hand on his hip, catching his mind up and forcing him to hold still. Slowly and deliberately, he slid the edge of the knife to the base of the man's balls. _*And THIS is for what you've done to Nagi.*_ He jerked upwards, revelling in the man's incoherent screams as the knife sliced cleanly through balls and cock. Holding the bloody object like some grisly trophy, he leaned over and shoved the man's own dick into his mouth, nearly choking him. "Now you know how WE felt," he concluded, eyes shining. Placing his bloody hand in the ruin of the man's groin, he finished by stabbing the knife into his asshole, shoving it in to the hilt. He released Shigeru's mind, and he writhed about on the ground, crying jaggedly.

Schuldig stood, blood dripping from his hands and death gleaming in his eyes, and glanced around at the utterly silent crowd. "Anybody else?" he snarled, meeting each Dom's eyes in turn. Some looked sickened, most looked fearful, and a very few of the slaves looked vindicated. Nagi was watching him with a look of awe and adoration, his complete and utter trust radiating from him in waves. Schuldig shook his head when no one else stepped forward, and made his way back to his new slave's side.

Nagi fell into his arms gratefully, cuddling against him as though they were alone in the room and Schuldig hadn't just turned their former Master into a bleeding, crying mess on the floor. _*I would've expected you to be frightened of me now,*_ Schuldig admitted to him, confused. _*I thought you were terrified of violence.*_

Nagi shook his head, eyes shining. _*You did that for me,*_ he answered, his mental voice accompanied by all kinds of complicated overtones - joy, disbelief, relief, love, and happiness just a few - but there was no trace of fear in his mind as he buried his face in Schuldig's chest. _*You did THAT for ME. I'm yours, and you'll never let them touch me. I'll never have to do that for them ever again - you'll keep me safe.*_

Schuldig's eyes softened as he stroked the boy's hair again, wincing as he realized he was spreading blood through it. _*I will,*_ he promised warmly. _*I will always protect you. You're mine, and I will never let them have you.*_

They stood like that for a moment, just enjoying holding each other in a way neither had ever felt before. The sound of someone clearing his throat just a few steps away brought Schuldig's head up to glare at the source - Crawford.

 _*If you two are finished, Takatori wants to leave,*_ he told them blandly. _*He's quite impressed by your little display, Schuldig - he's agreed to increase both our salaries by a considerable amount.*_

 _*Salaries?*_ Schuldig repeated, stressing the plural. This was the first HE'D heard about any payment for his work. He'd always just assumed that Takatori figured paying the Master was the same as paying the slave.

 _*Your money has been collecting in several investment accounts for you,*_ Crawford replied, adjusting his glasses in that habitual gesture of his. _*Now that you've learned a little restraint with your spending, I don't see why you shouldn't have access to them.*_

Schuldig's mouth twitched. _*You've been planning this all along, haven't you, Brad?*_ He threw the last bit in to test the boundaries of this new working relationship Crawford was apparently trying to build between them.

The American winced. _*I can't order you not to call me that,*_ he said stiffly, _*But I would prefer it if you did NOT. Whether or not I was planning this is of no consequence now - this is the result, and this is what we have to deal with. I never wanted you as a slave in the first place, as you well know, and I'm perfectly happy to continue working with you as an equal. PROVIDED you remember that I am at all times in charge of our team, as I am the one who can predict the outcome of our actions.*_

Schuldig nodded slowly, unable to fault that logic. "Let's go," he said aloud, turning and heading to where he could see Takatori waiting for them. The politician had a new wariness in his eyes when he looked at Schuldig - he'd learned tonight that he could not take the German man as lightly as he'd thought. Schuldig smirked in satisfaction, his hand searching for and finding Nagi's.

 _*You and me against the world, Liebe,*_ he murmured for Nagi alone to hear. _*You'll always be safe with me.*_ Nagi sent a wave of trust back up the link between them, clutching his hand like a lifeline. They strode out past Takatori into the night together, and Schuldig was aware that this was the beginning of a new, better time in his life. He squeezed Nagi's hand, content, and faced the world with a smirk on his face that proclaimed that he, Schuldig, was not to be messed with.


End file.
